


Autumn Trees

by Mntsnflrs



Series: Embers [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Disorder, Denial of Feelings, Drama & Romance, Family Dynamics, Found Family, M/M, Minor Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun, Non-Graphic Violence, References to Depression, Slice of Life, Taeyong Best Boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mntsnflrs/pseuds/Mntsnflrs
Summary: Johnny had always been too kind, and Taeyong had always been more selfish than he looked.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Series: Embers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697047
Comments: 250
Kudos: 819





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series but can probably be read as a stand alone!

“My scalp feels itchy.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “It’s bleach, it’s literally burning the colour out of your hair. Its not going to feel good.”

Taeyong looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, eyes bigger than usual. He looked as scared as he felt. “Is my hair going to fall out?”

Renjun tugged on a lock of Donghyuck’s chestnut hair. “Hyuck was fine, so you should be okay too. If not, we can always buy you a wig.”

Taeyong stared at himself more and tried to picture how he would look with a shiny, smooth head. Beneath the clingfilm, his dark hair was already visibly lightening to a coppery orange. “I don’t want a wig,” he said quietly. “I like having my own hair.”

“We don’t always get what we want,” Renjun said, smiling prettily. “Which is why you’re doing this in the first place, isn’t it?”

He nodded sadly. 

Donghyuck examined the row of hair dyes lined across the sink, face scrunched in concentration. “Junnie, what do you think? I’m leaning towards pink.”

“Pink,” Taeyong echoed. “Pink?”

Renjun bent down and squinted. “Blue?”

 _“Blue?”_ Taeyong asked. “Come on guys, be nice!”

They turned to him with matching expressions of false innocence. “We are being nice!”

He groaned, putting his face into his hands. “What would people at the studio say if I turned up looking like a berry?”

“They’d say you looked cute, which you will,” Donghyuck said with certainty. “Half of them are in love with you anyway, you could go in with Dolly Parton hair and they’d probably still fight to open doors for you.”

Renjun cocked his head. “Blonde?”

“Huh?”

“Not like… the size of Dolly Parton’s hair, but the colour? It’s nice, it’s still pretty neutral, and it would suit Taeyong’s complexion.”

Donghyuck pressed his lips together, considering. “We’d have to leave the bleach on for longer.”

“And use a toner.”

“He really might go bald.”

“But blonde would look cute.”

“Blonde it is.”

“Don’t I get a say?” Taeyong asked, somewhat needlessly. He knew the answer already.

Renjun smiled again, wide and happy. “Of course not!”

  
-

  
The blonde didn’t look bad, but it was a coincidence and mercy of fate rather than because of the dedication of his hair stylists, the nineteen-year-old boys forcing a comb through the stiff strands. “My scalp still hurts,” Taeyong said miserably. He’d never be able to come back into his own bathroom without remembering this, the two boys sat on either side of him in the bath as they yanked at his hair and giggled to each other. 

“Pain is beauty,” Donghyuck said, not pausing his brushing. “Trust me, I know. It hurts to be this attractive.”

Renjun groaned. “Can you un-adopt him please?”

“Never,” Taeyong said. He wouldn’t play along with those jokes, even if it were obvious to the context that the intent wasn’t serious. He squeezed Donghyuck’s knee with one hand, Renjun’s with the other. “Even if I went bald, you’d always be my boys.”

Donghyuck ducked his head, finally removing the comb from Taeyong’s hair. “Embarrassing,” he muttered. His cheeks were glowing. “Can’t believe I have to stay here another month before I can run back to college. No one embarrasses me there.”

“You embarrass yourself,” Renjun said, dry. Before Donghyuck could argue, Renjun stood, hauling Taeyong with him. “Let’s dry his hair and see how it looks, Hyuck. If it’s terrible, you’ll have to fix it while I pick Jisung up from dance.”

Taeyong looked at him. “Who said you were picking Jisung up?”

“I did.”

“Let me rephrase. Who said you were using my car to pick Jisung up?”

Renjun blinked slowly. “I did.”

“Who-“

Donghyuck groaned. “Give up Taeyong, he wanted to buy us all pizza on the way home and surprise you. Just nod and let him take your keys.”

“Oh.” Taeyong tried not to melt into a puddle, but whatever expression he wore still made Renjun cringe. “Thank you, but if you want pizza you need to take my wallet. You’re not paying for our food, Renjunnie.”

“I am. If you don’t let me, I’ll shave your head while you sleep.”

“Renjun-“

Donghyuck groaned again, this time loud enough to bounce off the tiles of the bathroom. “Go and get Jisung and pizza or we’ll never eat! Taeyong, go sit on your bed while I get my hair products.”

Taeyong frowned at him. “I’m the adult here. I’m the guardian.”

“I know who you are, but I also know that Renjun isn’t joking about shaving your head.” Donghyuck grabbed his wrist and yanked him out of the room, leaving Renjun to wave after them, grinning. “Trust me, you’ll lose this battle even if you stand and fight. Let him buy you pizza, Taeyong. You do so much for us, and he’s been worrying he’s taking you for granted.”

“You’re my boys,” Taeyong repeated, looking at Donghyuck. When he thought back to the five years of struggling and laughter and progress, he didn’t regret a second of it. “None of you take me for granted, I don’t regret a single thing.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks glowed again, but this time he smiled too. “We know that, but sometimes you deserve a pizza, and sometimes Renjun wants to pay for it. As we age it’s going to get harder to argue with us, so you might as well accept defeat now.”

Taeyong let Donghyuck move his head until he was bent towards the floor, the warmth of a hairdryer blowing against the back of his neck. “At least I still have Jisung.”

“Yeah, because he _likes_ being babied. That won’t change when he hits adulthood.” Despite the tone of his words, Donghyuck’s hands were gentle in Taeyong’s hair as he detangled strands and dried. “This looks good, Renjun was right about the colour. It suits you.”

“You look nice too,” Taeyong murmured. “I still wish I hadn’t agreed to that bet though. The bleach felt horrible.”

“Now you know not to agree to bets with Renjun in the future. He really wanted to dye your hair blue.”

Taeyong sighed. “I would have let him.”

Donghyuck pulled Taeyong’s head back up, combing a hand through the front of his hair, settling the strands. “He knew that,” he said. “That’s why he didn’t ask you to do it.”

  
-

  
Jisung blinked rapidly at Taeyong’s blonde hair, but otherwise didn’t say anything as he dumped his bags at the door and toed off his sneakers. “Long day?”

“Yeah.” Taeyong held out his arms. “I need some energy, please.”

Renjun snorted as he walked back with their pizzas in his arms, but Jisung folded himself into Taeyong’s embrace, awkward but willing.

Taeyong pressed his nose to Jisung’s hair and let himself relax now that all of his boys were home. Jisung smelt like the lilac fabric conditioner Taeyong used on their clothes, mixed with some of Renjun’s cologne, undoubtedly stolen from his bedroom. Taeyong paused. He sniffed Jisung again. “Pepperoni?”

Jisung hummed. “Yeah, we got a large pepperoni and spicy vegetarian.”

“Okay.” Taeyong pulled back, reluctantly. “Go get yourself a plate, I’ll be through in a second.”

Jisung wandered through to where Renjun and Donghyuck were already arguing about the pizza, and Taeyong took a few moments to himself. He picked up Jisung’s discarded sneakers and put them on the rack, hung his bag from his peg with the pretty green ‘J’ nailed above it. The J was the last in line, following the T, D, and R. Taeyong had made their labels as soon as the adoption papers had gone through, determined to make the boys know that they all had their special place in the home. He should have remembered that teenage boys were too messy to hang their jackets and bags up. 

He wandered through to the kitchen and helped himself to a slice of both pizzas, then stole an onion ring from Donghyuck’s plate. It was a tight squeeze fitting all of them at the tiny table, but they made it work.

Renjun passed him a second onion ring. “The blonde looks good,” he said, not looking at Taeyong.

“It does,” Taeyong replied, fond. “Thank you for buying our meal, Renjun.”

“Whatever. Thanks for eating it.”

It wasn’t a perfect dinner. There was nothing of nutritional value on anyone’s plate, Donghyuck kept sneaking fries from Renjun’s diminishing stash, the kitchen was almost unbearably warm from the heat of the summer evening and the cramped boys, and Jisung was just too goddamn long to sit comfortably at the table, his knees prodding into Taeyong’s legs every now and again. 

None of that mattered. Taeyong had just over a month until Donghyuck and Renjun went back to college and Jisung moved into the dorms at his dance academy. Until then, he would value every memory of them all together. Mismatched and flawed, they were still family. They were his boys, and if they wanted to dye his hair, if they wanted pizza for dinner, if they wanted to dump their bags by the door, then he’d let them.

  
-

  
Bad news always seemed to either start with a phone call, or with Ten.

On this occasion it turned out to be both. Taeyong knew, as soon as he picked up the phone and Ten whined, “Yongieeeee~” that it was something horrible. Something that would ruin his life or humiliate him or mean he wouldn’t be able to sleep due to anxiety for the next week and a half.

“What is it, Ten?” he asked, already tense.

Ten sighed, disappointment evident through the line. “I was hoping to butter you up first.”

“You’re making it worse, tell me what’s going on before I vomit.”

“There’s a dance show next weekend, for my class of five to nine year olds. I was hoping you would come and watch, since it’s the first performance I’ll be coordinating.”

He softened immediately. “Oh Ten, of course I’ll come,” he said. “Why would you have to butter me up for that? In what world would I say no?”

“Well… Kun’s throwing a party for me on Wednesday, and you’re invited.”

“Okay,” Taeyong replied, cautious now that Ten was. 

“We were hoping that you’d be willing to bring the kids and come and stay with us for a week or so.”

His heart plummeted. “Ten-“

Ten interrupted in a rush, “I know its short notice but I thought if I asked you well in advance that you’d panic, and I know you worry about space but we found a house at the edge of town that has five beds you can reserve until the end of October, and it’s pretty cheap but we’re willing to pay it if you don’t have the money because we really want to see you and I know I’ve only been here a little while but I miss you so much already. If you don’t want to see anyone other than us, I understand and I’ll do my best to make sure you feel comfortable, but I just thought… the air here is so good. It healed me a little, though Kun helped with the rest. You only have a couple of weeks until the boys go back to their schools, right? It might be nice for them to spend a week in the countryside. Jisung could help me with the kids’ classes if he wanted.”

He pressed his lips together. All three boys were upstairs gaming, Taeyong curled on the couch alone with reruns of Say Yes to the Dress muted. It had only been a handful of weeks since Ten had moved out of the city, but he missed him too. He missed him, and the guilt of Ten’s fear that Taeyong wouldn’t come to support him was crushing. 

“I’ll come if you want me to Ten,” Taeyong said. “But I don’t… I don’t want to make anyone else feel uncomfortable. If it's easier for the others, I’ll stay away. I could send the kids with Doyoung if you want to see them.”

“I want to be selfish,” Ten said. “I’ve spoken to Kun and he agrees with me. This is my celebration and I want you to be here with me. You were there at the start and I want you with me now.”

He swallowed. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” Ten sounded firm. “You can pick up the keys for the house tomorrow afternoon, I’ll send you the address. The woman that owns the house said that she’ll make sure the pantry is full of basic food before she leaves.”

“Ten…”

“What?”

The last time he’d seen Ten and Kun together, in their cute little house with their cute little garden and their sunny skies, he’d been so sick with fear that he’d chewed the skin from most of his fingertips, leaving his hands mottled and bleeding. He’d been violently sick before Doyoung had picked him up, just at the thought of returning to the town. Just at the thought of seeing Johnny.

But Ten didn’t know that. Ten had his own problems he was working through, and Taeyong wasn’t going to drag him back after his months of progress just so that they could both sit in fear and self-loathing. He couldn’t be that cruel, that bad of a friend.

“I’ll come,” he whispered. “I’ll come tomorrow.”

Ten cheered. “Thank you so much! God, I can’t wait to see you, how long has it been since we got wine drunk and danced stupidly? I miss those days. I miss you. I’m so excited to see you now! And the kiddies. Not Donghyuck though. Make sure you tell him that.”

Despite his mood, he couldn’t help but smile at Ten’s voice. It was the happiest he had sounded in over a year, and while some of it was because of Kun, most of it was because he was finally allowing himself to appreciate that his friends cared enough to go out of their way for him. After so many months of hiding away, he was starting to shine again. “I’m excited to see you too,” Taeyong said. “I’ll go and let the boys know that they need to pack.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I promise. See you tomorrow.”

Ten hung up after another goodbye, and as soon as the line went dead Taeyong called Doyoung.

“Hello?”

“Are you going?”

There was a pause. “Yes. Not until Tuesday though, because I couldn’t get more than five days off from work.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Kun’s spare room.”

Taeyong closed his eyes. “Okay.”

“Are… are you coming too?”

“Yeah. I’m bringing the boys.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s for Ten. He needs this, doesn’t he? I can deal with it for Ten.”

“Ten wouldn’t want you to feel obligated if he knew everything, Taeyong. Maybe you should tell him and just let me bring the kids. I don’t want you making yourself ill with stress again.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll be okay if I have the boys with me. It gives me something to focus on, you know?”

Doyoung made a rude noise in his throat. “You mean it gives you an excuse to focus on something other than your emotions? I know your game.”

Taeyong took a deep breath and held it in his chest for a moment before exhaling slowly. “Doyoung, I’m going to try. This isn’t about me, and it would be unfair to Ten to try and make it so.”

Whether intentional or not, Doyoung had always come across as almost savage in his protection of Taeyong. Even as kids, with a year between them, Doyoung had insulted his seniors on behalf of Taeyong’s quiet feelings. He’d burn bridges with an entire city if it were for Taeyong’s benefit, but Taeyong refused to let that happen. 

It was another long moment before Doyoung replied. “Fine. Ring me if you need me though, okay? I mean it, Taeyong. Say the word and I’ll come running.”

“I know,” he whispered. “Thanks Doie. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

  
-

  
He didn’t vomit, but it was close. He went to the bathroom and rested his head against the cold tiles of the floor, waiting for dizzy panic to pass, for the churning in his stomach to subside. He was temped to chew on his nails, but if he made himself bleed the boys would worry, and he couldn’t have that. He counted to sixty once, twice, a third time, tapping each second on the tile with his knuckles. When he felt like his soul was back in his body, he stood, leaning over the sink. It hurt to see himself in the mirror knowing what he was, what a selfish, cruel man he was. It hurt looking at himself, so he bent down and washed his face with cold water and left the room, pausing only briefly outside of Donghyuck’s room, where the three boys were gathered, to tell them to pack their things. 

“We’re visiting Ten tomorrow,” he said, forcing cheer into his voice. “So pack your bag – enough for a week, okay? You’re going to see what it’s like to spend time in the countryside.”

“A week?” Jisung asked, wide eyed. “But what about Chenle?”

“You can’t go a week without seeing him?”

Jisung shook his head sombrely. “We’ve only gone three days before, and Chenle called me in the evening and said he couldn’t remember what I looked like, that he felt like his eyeballs might be rotting away. You don’t want his eyeballs to rot, do you?”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “You’ve known the boy for what, two months? And suddenly you’re so close that you’ll die without each other.”

Jisung frowned. “Just because you don’t have friends doesn’t mean I can’t value mine.”

 _“Boys,”_ Taeyong warned before an argument could brew. Donghyuck had barely glanced up until then, still playing on his computer. He finally paused the game, sensing Taeyong’s mood, and looked at him with serious eyes.

“I’m in,” he said simply. “Any chance to annoy Ten and I’ll take it. Why don’t we bring Chenle with us? If his parents say he can come, that is.”

Jisung lit up. “Can we ask?”

“Sure,” Taeyong said. He gripped the doorframe weakly, hoping he’d manage to keep the smile on his face before his panic won over the mask of calm. “Ring him now, and if his parents say it’s okay, tell him we’ll pick him up tomorrow at twelve. Remember, enough clothes for a week. Don’t make me buy you new underwear because you forget to pack it again.”

Renjun saluted. “You’ve got it.”

He shook his head. “Don’t stay up too late either,” he said, softer. “I don’t care how old you are, if I have to drag you out of bed by your ankles tomorrow, I won’t be happy. Get lots of rest.”

“You too,” Jisung said. “Sleep well, Taeyong.”

He wanted to cry. “You too,” he said. He forced another smile. “Love you guys.”

All three boys were wise beyond their ages in different ways, but it was always Donghyuck that saw more than he was meant to when he met Taeyong’s eyes. Whatever ghosts he could see he didn’t mention, but Taeyong could tell just from his expression that he knew. “We love you too, Taeyong,” Donghyuck said. “Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” He closed the door softly and padded down the hall to his own bedroom, the smallest of the four, his bed pressed against the far wall.

He could barely open his closet door to get to his pyjamas, but even if the room had been luxuriously spacious he still would have been bumping into things, blindly reaching for things that weren’t there, walking into the bedframe and banging his fingers against open drawers. 

Eventually he gave up, climbing into bed fully clothed, trying to breathe past the lump in his throat. He ground the heel of his palms into his eyes and willed himself not to cry. Jesus, he was twenty-five years old, and almost in tears because of stuff that happened years ago.

What right did he have to cry? He was the one that had left. He was the one that had burnt his bridges. If he was hated now it was his own fault. He had to deal with that.

So why did he keep picturing Johnny? Eighteen years old but already so tall, so sturdy and kind. Eighteen years old with hair in his eyes, grin unstoppable, blinding, undeniable. Taeyong would have spent his entire life staring at Johnny’s smile if he’d let himself. Had it matured? Was it bigger now, smaller? Did Johnny have lines around his eyes yet? Did he have a wife? Kids? A big family, like he’d always wanted? Had he wiped Taeyong from his memory like they’d never known one another? Taeyong couldn’t blame him if he had. It wasn’t Johnny’s fault that Taeyong had left and refused to move on from his own mistakes. 

Johnny had always been too kind, and Taeyong had always been more selfish than he looked.

  
-

  
They picked up Chenle a couple of minutes after twelve, and with Renjun in charge of directions, sitting shotgun, they left the city. The car was too loud for Taeyong to overthink, Donghyuck and Chenle wrestling in the back seat while Jisung pressed himself against the window and tried to escape the stray fists. Renjun talked animatedly to Taeyong about his classes, his eagerness to return to some aspects of his photography major, his reluctance to go back to others. 

The sun was high, the sky flawless as he drove. If he ignored where they were going, he could almost enjoy the ride, the way the back seat was full of laughter, the way Renjun commandeered the aux cord and then reclined his seat with his head back, happy to crush Donghyuck’s knees behind him for the opportunity to nap to his own music. It was chaos, but chaos was fun. Chaos was better than being alone, and a car full of laughter was better than Taeyong driving in silence.

The house they eventually pulled up at wasn’t one Taeyong recognised, but that was probably because of the location. He’d grown up on the other side of the town, closer to the schools and the highstreets than the backdrop of fields and forest. They were only a couple of minutes from Kun and Ten’s home, but this house seemed to dwarf Kun’s pretty cottage. It was made of old brick, with domineering windows and a large, overgrown front garden. 

Taeyong climbed out and checked his phone for Ten’s instructions. The keys were under a plant pot beside the door, so he unlocked it and let the boys wander through before following them. “Shoes off,” he said. “This isn’t our house. Ten said there’s two twin bedrooms upstairs, so go claim your spot.”

Only Jisung paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Where will you sleep?”

“There’s a room down here too, don’t worry,” Taeyong said, closing the door behind himself. His bag was too heavy for his trembling arms, so he put it on the floor and offered Jisung another smile. “Go find your bed, Jisung. I’m sure the others will be dragging you out to explore soon, so you might want to get unpacked while you can.”

Jisung nodded and padded up the stairs, clearly not in a rush despite the fact that Chenle and Renjun were already arguing about rooms. 

Alone downstairs, Taeyong wandered the house. The living room was spacious but barely furnished, only one sagging old couch and an ancient television. There was a separate dining room, which was nice. The table was big enough to fit everyone around, which Taeyong was especially thankful for. Jisung’s unintentional kicks from the evening before had already come up as inky bruises across his shins.

It was the kitchen at the back of the house that Taeyong liked the most, however. The room was big but styled in a very rustic manner, which made it feel cosy. The view from the big window was one of fields and wide skies. The door next to the kitchen was Taeyong’s bedroom, a double that was packed almost as tightly as his room at home, though this one had the benefit of a private bathroom so that he wouldn’t have to go upstairs. It had probably been a study at one point, converted into an extra room to maximise profit when renting the house out. The bedroom also looked out over the fields, and once he had hauled his bag into the room, he closed the door softly and sat on the edge of the bed, staring out into the green.

He’d spent so many years looking at the grey of tall buildings and smog, and enjoying it. City life was wonderful in its own right, but this felt different. This felt like home, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d spent the last seven years telling himself that this wasn’t home, but just looking at the green made Taeyong want to run into it, to fall into the grass and squint up at the tiny white clouds.

At one time, he would have done it, uncaring of the consequence of leaving the door unlocked or his shoes at the bottom of the bed. He would have run barefoot into the fields, and Yuta would have tackled him to the ground, tickling until they were both screaming. Kun would have helped Taeyong escape, only to be attacked by Johnny, and Doyoung would have watched them all from a safe distance away, arms full of the shoes they’d discarded, expression fond but resigned to the task of pulling them off each other. 

Taeyong blinked, eyes adjusting to the new light as the sun hid itself behind a cloud. Those memories were home, he realised, not the fields. 

  
-

  
Ten and Kun joined them all for dinner, bringing some of Kun’s homecooked stew. It tasted amazing, and for the sake of the boys, they kept conversation light; Kun introduced himself, then chatted for a while to Chenle and Renjun as Jisung and Donghyuck washed the dishes and Ten joined Taeyong in the back garden.

He looked good. He’d gained weight, and his skin had brightened to a healthy kind of glow. More than anything, he was smiling like he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to. After so many months of pain, Ten deserved every second of every smile. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he said quietly. “I missed you.”

Taeyong rubbed Ten’s knee through his trousers. “I missed you too. How is domestic bliss?”

Ten’s smile widened. “Blissful. What can I say? I’m fairly sure Kun and I skipped the dating stage and went right into the married for twenty years stage. It feels so natural, like we were meant to find each other.”

“I’m happy for you both,” Taeyong said honestly. As hard as it was to be back, to admit to himself that this rift was one of his own making, he couldn’t blame Ten. Kun was just as sweet as he had been the last time Taeyong had seen him, and he deserved someone like Ten, someone quick and fun, someone just as kind but in a completely different way. They had bickered over dinner, much to the chagrin of Jisung and the entertainment of Donghyuck, but it had been light-hearted. Subjects like what colour collar to get their kitten, where they should put their new vase. It was the kind of life Taeyong had always expected Kun to have, but the fact that his companion had turned out to be someone as complicated as Ten was a surprise, though a welcome one. There had been a point a couple of months ago when Taeyong had wondered if he would ever see Ten smile like this again, his teeth bare, eyes almost shut. He’d missed it. “I’m so happy for you, Ten. I really am. You deserve all of this goodness.”

Ten’s smile widened again, and he glanced up at the window into the kitchen as if to reassure himself he could still see Kun’s shadow against the wall. “Thank you. You know what? I think I deserve it too. The good and the bad, I wouldn’t change what I have now. I never thought I’d live like this, but Kun does yoga with me every morning so that we can slow dance in the evenings without my leg seizing up. I never… I never thought I would have something like this for myself, but I’m not going to waste it.” 

“Good,” Taeyong replied. He smiled, more for Ten’s sake than his own. He was happy, but his chest felt heavy. “You're good for each other.”

“Kun’s not mad at you,” Ten said, eyes suddenly serious. “You know that right? Not at all. He’s confused, and he’s asked me a couple of times what exactly happened that sent you away, but I could never give him a straight answer because you’ve never given me one.” 

Taeyong nodded. “You’re right. I haven’t.”

“I’ve always respected your silence on the topic, and I always will,” Ten said. “But Kun isn’t angry at you, Taeyong. He just wants to understand. Yuta too, I think, though he definitely wants to shout at you a little first.”

 _And Johnny?_ He swallowed it down. It wasn’t his place to ask.

Ten heard it anyway. “I don’t know about Johnny,” he said softly. “Kun told me I shouldn’t ask him about you, he said it still strikes a nerve. I don’t think he’s angry though, he seems too forgiving for that. I think he’s just sad.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Taeyong murmured. He looked up at the sky. No wonder Ten had sent him so many messages about being enchanted by the summer stars; compared to the sight from the city, there were millions of stars flickering in and out of sight above their heads. Taeyong had forgotten how clear the nights were this far away from the metropolis. 

“Would it be so bad?” Ten asked. “To see him again? To speak to him?”

Their first kiss had been at night. Camping out in the forest, they’d snuck away from the fire under the guise of collecting more wood, and hidden from sight, had pressed their lips together, clumsy but earnest. It hadn’t been Johnny’s first kiss, but it was Taeyong’s. He’d been so glad for the canopy of the trees at the time, certain that if they’d kissed under nothing but the sky he would have floated away and joined the stars.

“I think it would hurt us both needlessly,” Taeyong said, still looking up. “Why open old wounds? I’m sure he’s moved on, and I have too.”

Ten leant his cheek against Taeyong’s shoulder and blew out a soft sigh. “Yongie,” he said quietly, “I know you’ve gotten good at kidding yourself, but you’re still awful at lying to anyone else.”

He swallowed.

Ten’s head shifted, his mouth moving closer to Taeyong’s neck, the tip of his nose cold beneath Taeyong’s ear. “Unless… that’s why you don’t want to see him again?”

Taeyong made an abortive movement he tried to contain, a twitch he couldn’t quite tense. 

“Poor baby,” Ten murmured. “You’re worried you’ll see him and collapse, aren’t you?”

“Please Ten,” Taeyong whispered. “Don’t do this now. Not tonight.” He could hear Chenle laughing inside, squeaky and loud. He focused on that sound, let it ground him, to where he was. Renjun was laughing too, a little more subdued, but still happy. Joyful, even. They were all giddy from the sun and new surroundings and Taeyong couldn’t ruin that by crying. He couldn’t allow himself to be selfish anymore, he had responsibilities, and he owed his boys this happiness. As soon as he’d found them, he knew he couldn’t live only for himself anymore. Asking anything from Johnny would be selfish, a greedy, self-consuming thing, and Taeyong couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it, especially not while his boys were home. 

Falling apart was a luxury he could only afford when he was alone. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Shye - Love u' was on repeat for this chapter so check it out if you're interested xo

“Do you want to talk about it?” Yuta asked, a hand on Taeyong’s knee. His pretty eyes were big and concerned behind the fall of his messy hair. 

“No thank you,” Taeyong murmured.

“It might make you feel better if you do.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Is it about Seojong?”

“No, Yuta.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s not about Seojong.”

Yuta squeezed his knee again. “She’s a nice girl. Really nice.”

“I know,” Taeyong whispered. “I know she is.”

Seojong wasn’t the problem - what she symbolised was. A rift Taeyong had created. An unbreachable chasm he’d spent his time digging into the cool earth. He knew that it was his fault. He knew he deserved this.

But it still hurt. It hurt more than he thought anything could have. 

“I’m sure he meant to tell you himself,” Yuta said. “But you know how Johnny is. Sometimes he gets swept up in things without thinking them through.”

“I know how he is,” Taeyong agreed. “How long has it been. A month? Two?”

“Ten weeks.”

He nodded, staring resolutely at the other side of the park. The bench they were sat on was old, groaning beneath their weight, barely clinging on. Taeyong wanted to collapse, just like the rotting old bench. He wanted to cry, but he knew that if he did there would be a confrontation he didn’t want. He knew that he’d admit what was happening if Yuta saw him cry. “I hope they’re happy together.”

Yuta offered him a pained smile. “They seem to be.”

“Does Kun know?”

“He only found out last week because he saw them together.”

 _But he didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me._ “I see.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuta said, hearing what remained unspoken. “I didn’t… he said he was going to tell you himself, he asked me not to mention it until he had. I think he was trying to speak to you, but recently you’ve been so absent, Taeyong. I know you must be hurt, but Johnny is hurting too. The two of you need to talk about whatever it is that has come between you.”

It was petty, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Taeyong didn’t let himself cry until he got home, until he had packed his bags. He knew that now was the time to tell Yuta, that it would look like he was being cruel again, that he was being villainous and selfish, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. What mattered was that when Johnny found out, he couldn’t turn any of the blame to Yuta or Kun, because they didn’t know. They knew as much as he did, which was nothing at all. There was nowhere to place the blame other than the source, which was Taeyong. He’d done so much wrong already; this lasting scar would be just another. At least with him gone they would have each other. No one would have to pick sides, no one would have to keep secrets.

  
-

  
He woke up to a finger in his left ear.

“Taeyong.”

He groaned, rolling over to hide his ear. Another finger ended up in his right ear.

“Taeyong. We’re hungry and Donghyuck said that if you don’t wake up soon, he’s going to make us breakfast. Please, for the greater good, don’t let that happen.”

He batted the hands away, finally blinking his eyes open, immediately flinching at the flood of sunlight. “Wh? What time is it?”

“Half past six.”

He groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was Renjun sat on his bed, fingers ready to be deployed into ears. Chenle and Jisung were hovering in the doorway in their matching pyjamas, eyes pleading. “Why’re you all awake? You’re never awake this early. Why is _Donghyuck_ awake?”

“The blinds in our room don’t work well so we woke up with the sun. I don’t think Chenle and Jisung went to sleep in the first place.”

“We did!” Chenle defended himself. “But the sun woke us up too. It was kind of nice, actually, not to be woken up by an alarm. I feel so fresh!” His tone darkened suddenly. “I wont if I have to eat Donghyuck’s breakfast though. Jisung told me that he’s been forbidden from using the grills at the college dorms.”

Taeyong nodded, still muddled by sleep. “He’s not good with high temperatures.” He rolled himself out of bed, not bothering to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth or get into proper clothes, just padding downstairs to where Donghyuck was deliberating between smoked or unsmoked bacon. Taeyong pulled him away from the countertop by the back of his shirt, pausing to drop a kiss on his forehead before taking over breakfast duties.

Donghyuck murmured thanks, but Taeyong was still too sleepy to register it. There was movement behind him, boys setting the big table in the dining room, someone getting drinks, someone searching for napkins. Taeyong focused on frying bacon, squinting a little as his eyes tried to adjust to the bright morning light. “Fried or scrambled, guys?”

“Scrambled if the bacon is smoked!” Renjun shouted through.

Taeyong hummed. “You’ve got it, boss. We’ll do fried tomorrow.”

Chenle wandered through. “Taeyong, can I ring my dad? He wanted me to call last night but I forgot.”

Taeyong turned to him, spatula in hand. “Of course you can, baby,” he said. “Do you want some quiet? You can go back upstairs and I’ll come and get you when breakfast is ready.”

Chenle grinned. “Thank you!”

Alone again, Taeyong turned back to the bacon. It was so odd, waking up and seeing the fields. It reminded him of the summers of his childhood, when he’d come downstairs to find his dad frying bacon, his mother setting the table with a bright smile. He’d eat as quickly as possible, then dart back upstairs to get washed before running out to see his friends. That was what every summer was; running.The energy of childhood was something beautiful and endless, until it did end. One moment you were running, and the next you had stopped without realising it, without thinking it would ever happen. One moment you're sat at the breakfast table with your legs swinging, pyjamas tickling your feet, the next you’re stood at the grill flipping the bacon. One moment you’re running to your friends, towards the smell of sticky sweet ice cream, the oddly specific smell of water from an old hosepipe, the smoke from a bonfire that lingered in your hair no matter how many times you showered… the next moment you were hoping for the people you love to have the same kind of memories, the same joy of running. 

Taeyong didn’t believe in fate, but he believed in something. Donghyuck sleeping an entire night through and waking up early for breakfast wasn’t a miracle, but it was a sign that something here was good for him, be it the air, the distance from his stresses, or the freedom to start running. Taeyong could only dish up food for his boys and hope that they all enjoyed their stay. 

“Jisungie!” he called. “Go and tell Chenle that breakfast is ready! If he’s still talking to his dad I can keep the plate in the oven until he’s ready to come down.”

“Okay!” Jisung called back, running up to fetch his friend. 

By the time Taeyong had brought all the plates to the table, all of the boys were sat waiting with big eyes and expectant grins, inhaling the food as soon as it touched the table.

Taeyong watched them, fond, and passed Jisung a napkin when he smeared ketchup on his cheek. 

“I’m gonna go have a shower and wake myself up,” Taeyong said. “Can you boys clean up when you’re done?”

Renjun nodded, but it was Donghyck that spoke up, eggs halfway to his mouth, eyes suddenly narrowed. “Aren’t you going to have breakfast?”

“Not yet, it’s too early for me,” Taeyong said gently. He turned before he could admit to himself and to Donghyuck that he was lying. He felt far too sick to eat. “Don’t forget that the dish soap is under the sink.”

There was a hum of agreement behind him as he left the dining room and returned to his own downstairs bedroom and the private bathroom beyond. It was nice, a surprising luxury to have a bathroom he didn’t have to share with four teenage boys. The water was cool beneath his hand as he tested the temperature of the shower, and he stepped in, too eager to wait for it to warm. Beneath the spray’s biting chill he felt almost human again. He felt almost brave. 

By the time he emerged from his room, clean and freshly dressed, the boys were already fully dressed too, pulling on their shoes, and arguing about sunscreen.

“Yes you need it,” Taeyong said, passing the bottle to Renjun. “Remember to top up every couple of hours, okay? If you burn I’ll be mad.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “Okay, mother.”

“I mean it.”

His sarcasm softened. “I know. We’ll be careful.”

Taeyong nodded, satisfied. “Do you know where you’re going?”

Renjun spoke up from where he was double knotting Chenle’s sneakers. “Ten gave us a map of the town and surrounding hills last night, said that there are some good spots to go exploring. We’re just gonna see where we end up.”

“You all have your phones, right?” Taeyong asked. While two of them were legally adults, it didn’t reassure him. “Ring me if you get lost or if you need me to transfer you some money. Or if someone is mean to you; small towns can be peculiar. Or if anyone tries to get you inside of their van. You know the drill.”

“We know the drill,” Renjun soothed, standing. He put the sunscreen in his bag, then hefted it onto his shoulders. “We have water and bandages just in case Bigfoot captures us and holds us in his lair overnight, but other than that I’m pretty sure we’ll be home for dinner.”

“Okay,” Taeyong said. He chewed his bottom lip, still nervous. “Can I have a hug before you go?”

Donghyuck was the first to settle himself in Taeyong’s arms, pressing his face to Taeyong’s neck and breathing in like he had the first few nights he’d found his home. He smelt energetic, like spring flowers. Renjun followed suit, rapping his arms around them both, and shortly after both Jisung and Chenle followed. In the middle of his boys, Taeyong’s heart calmed once more. Whatever outside held, be it memories or hatred or revulsion, this was what mattered now. This was a bridge he would never let himself burn.

He cleared his throat and shook them all off. “Okay, get going!” he said. “I want you back by five so that we can eat together at the table, okay? It’s rare that we can all fit at one table, we need to enjoy it while we can.”

The boys saluted before piling out of the door, already starting to run. It made Taeyong’s eyes prickle, though most of his emotions were happy ones. All four boys were smiling, laughing, the sun warming their faces in the early morning light. It was beautiful to see.

It gave Taeyong the strength to get into his car and drive to the address Ten had passed to him the evening before.

  
-

  
He expected yelling. Maybe a door slammed in his face. A punch.

Yuta stared at him. “Taeyong?”

“Yeah,” he said past the lump in his throat. “It’s me.”

He didn’t expect the way Yuta threw himself out of his house and swept Taeyong into a crushing embrace. He didn’t expect hot tears against his neck, the feeling of weightlessness as Yuta staggered back, clutching Taeyong in his arms as he cried. “I missed you so much!” he yelled. “I missed you, I missed you, I _love_ you, Tae, I missed you so much.”

Taeyong could do nothing but cling back, his heart somewhere in his throat. “I missed you too,” he whispered. There wasn’t a week that had gone by where he hadn’t thought of Yuta and his bright smile, his contagious laughter, his endless generosity, his wild spirit. “I love you too.”

“Six years,” Yuta said against Taeyong’s neck. “Six fucking years, Lee Taeyong. You have a lot of missing birthday presents to make up for.”

He laughed. It was such an odd thing to say, such a Yuta thing, that he couldn’t help but laugh.

And then he was crying. 

He was sobbing, violently, clutching Yuta just as tightly as he was being held. 

Nakamoto Yuta, who had been his first friend. 

Nakamoto Yuta, who had been his first ally. 

Nakamoto Yuta, who deserved the stars in the sky.

How many times had they wiped away one another’s tears? How many times had they fallen asleep on each other’s shoulders during a movie, how many times had they gotten into trouble together in school because they couldn’t stop giggling? How many of Taeyong’s most precious memories were entwined with Yuta?

“I don’t care,” Yuta murmured into Taeyong’s neck. “I don’t care why you thought you had to leave; I just care that you’re back. Don’t run again Taeyong, don’t leave me like that again, please.”

“I won’t,” he said thickly, trying to blink away the tears that refused to stop falling. “I’m sorry Yuta. I’m so sorry.”

Yuta shook his head, his grip tightening again. “You had your reasons, I know that. Just… don’t stay away for so long next time. Don’t hide from me, Yongie, I can’t bear it.”

“I won’t,” he repeated, stronger this time. He sniffed, the sound so loud and ugly that they both laughed a little. “I promise.”

Yuta finally put Taeyong’s feet back to the ground, as gentle as he always was when he knew Taeyong needed it. He pulled back slightly, pushing Taeyong’s hair back from his forehead, rubbing at the red of his cheeks. “Kun said you have kids now,” Yuta mumbled. “What the fuck, Taeyong? I’m an uncle and you didn’t even tell me?”

“They’re here too,” Taeyong said. “Exploring. You… you can meet them if you like. I know they’d love you.”

Yuta nodded. “One thing at a time though,” he said. “Come inside, where it’s cooler. Have a beer, tell me what the fuck has been going on with my best friend.”

“Just like that?” 

Yuta nodded, decisive. “Just like that,” he said. “You’re here now. That’s what matters to me.”

  
-

  
They spent all day together.

Taeyong told Yuta about his boys, his dance, his small but cosy townhouse, his friendly neighbours. Yuta told Taeyong about his job as a landscaper that had him working odd hours, about his parents now happily settled back in Japan, about his hopes for a calm end to summer. 

“The storms are bad for gardens,” he said, brows furrowed. “I’ve spent the last three months grooming shrubs, if they’re blown away in the autumn weather I’ll be super pissed.”

Taeyong smiled, because it suited him. If his parents still lived in town, they would have been happy to have Yuta to care for their garden, Taeyong knew. They always had a soft spot for Yuta because of his playful spirit. 

It was only when Taeyong had found his shoes, having checked the time and decided to head home to start on dinner, that Yuta changed his tone. “I have to tell him, you know.”

Taeyong looked up from the bombardment of hungry texts from Donghyuck. “I know,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t expect you to hide it from him.”

Yuta rested his hip against the wall, crossing his arms. “Are you going to speak to him?”

Taeyong lifted his fingertips to his mouth, yanking his hand back down when he realised he was about to start chewing. “In a way I want to see him, but I think I lost the opportunity to initiate contact years ago. I won’t force myself on him if he doesn’t want to see me.”

Yuta nodded. “And if he does want to see you?”

Taeyong shrugged uncomfortably. “Let me know. It would be nice to speak to him, but he doesn’t owe me his time or attention.”

“You’re being oddly calm about this for a man that ran away from his first love six years ago.”

It hurt, but Taeyong deserved worse. “I’m not calm,” he admitted. “I feel like I’m going to be sick. It doesn’t matter, though. If Johnny wants to see me, it’s his right. If he doesn’t want to see me, that’s his right too. I’ve forgone any choice in the matter, this is his decision. I took the decision from him the first time, I won’t do it again.”

Yuta regarded him for a long moment, his gaze heavy. “Little Taeyongie, all grown up and sad. I didn’t expect that. You were always the lightest of us all.”

“And you?” Taeyong asked. “Are you happy?”

“Sometimes. Most of the time, actually,” Yuta said. “But I think I’ll be happier even more often now.”

“I hope so,” Taeyong whispered.

“Come back soon,” Yuta said. “My door is always open for you, Taeyong. Come back soon.”

  
-

  
He didn’t have time to think before the boys were barelling back into the house demanding sustenance, and Taeyong was so overcome with relief at seeing them all whole and healthy and not burnt that it took him a moment to realise that seven boys had come home instead of four.

“Oh,” he said. “Hello?”

“It’s okay, right?” Donghyuck asked. “You always tell us to bring friends round, and we met them this morning, we’ve spent all day together.”

Taeyong couldn’t reply, too busy staring at the boy with high brows and prominent cheekbones. He looked grown. “Mark?”

He waved hesitantly. “Hi Taeyong. Long time no see, right?”

Renjun blinked. “How much are we missing here?”

Mark looked to the ground. “I didn’t think it would be this Taeyong that was your guardian. Haha… I guess that’s my fault for not thinking about it.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner,” Taeyong said softly. He looked to both of Mark’s friends, one with sandy hair and a wide, concerned smile, the other with big eyes and an easy expression. “All three of you are welcome to stay.”

Mark hedged. “I don’t know if I should…”

Donghyuck looked to him and then back to Taeyong, unable to mask his flash of disappointment. 

“I’m making dinner then heading out,” Taeyong said without thinking. “I won’t be here until late, so don’t feel like you have to leave. Why don’t you go out and get some snacks together? When you get back the food will be ready, and you guys can have the house to yourselves.”

Jisung looked at him with wide eyes. “Where’re you going?”

“Ah, I have some people I need to visit,” Taeyong said, waving one hand. “You can do without me for one evening, right? Especially considering you have some new friends to hang around with.”

Jisung nodded solemnly. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course!” Taeyong said, forcing cheer into his voice. “I’ll make some chicken and potato wedges, something easy that can stay warm in the oven, alright? It’ll be about forty minutes.”

The boys all nodded and murmured thanks, the two unknown boys politely introducing themselves as Jaemin and Jeno. 

Mark kept staring. “You look good,” he said eventually. 

“You do too, Mark.” How old was he now, twenty? The last time Taeyong had seen him he was barely fifteen, still round in the face with big sparkling eyes that followed Johnny wherever he went, which was always wherever Taeyong was. Mark could barely look at Taeyong now, which was closer to what he had expected from Yuta. Still, it was reasonable. Johnny had always been Mark’s idol, and Taeyong was the guy that had left them both in the dust. Of course he felt uncomfortable in his presence now. 

Taeyong pulled the chicken wings out of the fridge and started the search for seasoning. 

This was fine. He just had to keep out of the way for one night, which was easy enough to do. He wouldn’t have Mark feel unwelcome in the house, he wouldn’t have Donghyuck feel like he couldn’t make new friends and bring them over for dinner. Taeyong wouldn’t be another roadblock between his boys creating more memories and finding more loved ones. 

  
-

  
He left the house to a light but slowly darkening sky, wondering if he should go back to see Yuta, but deciding against it. He probably wanted some space to think things through before seeing Taeyong again. Ten would want to spend the evening with Kun, no doubt getting stressed before the dance recital and in need of Kun’s calming influence. Taeyong didn’t want to intrude.

If his parents still lived in town he’d have somewhere to go, but if they still lived here there would have been years of awkward family gatherings. Maybe it was simply better that for now, Taeyong had nowhere to go.

He wandered throughout the narrow roads until the sky darkened to a navy blue and the starts stared to peek out. It was still too early to go back to the house, but his legs ached from the miles he’d done, so he trusted his memory to take him somewhere comfortable.

It was about forty minutes later that he arrived at the old park on the edge of the west side of the town. It was almost the same as it had been when Taeyong had been in high school, sitting on the swings listening to Doyoung go through his biology notes, sat at a picnic table as Kun fed everyone his homemade snacks, chasing Yuta through the climbing equipment, lying side by side on the grassy banks with Johnny.

Every corner of the town held a precious, mundane memory he never thought he would miss. Getting groceries with his parents, hand in hand with his mother. Leaving school during a winter shower, shoes soaked through, laughing as he raced his friends home, kicking water up their legs. Playing with an old, cracked frisbee. Picking thorns out of his arms while his dad dotted antiseptic cream along the bleeding nicks left behind. Going to bed with the knowledge that the next day would be as easy as the last, where problems started with homework and ended with figuring out how many hours he could dedicate to doing nothing but enjoying himself.

“I figured you’d come here.”

Taeyong blinked. The low light wasn’t playing tricks on him, there was a figure slouched against the picnic bench, hunched over slightly, legs curled up. “Excuse me?”

“I went to the address Yuta gave me, but when I got there I found Mark and a bunch of teenagers instead of you. That was pretty weird, until I remembered that Kun mentioned you have kids now.”

He felt like he was going to pass out. All the blood had rushed out of his head and he felt dizzy, unprepared, scared. “Johnny?”

“I haven’t changed that much, have I?”

He hadn’t changed at all. Same height, same odd way of balling himself up as he sat, same too-long hair and too-easy smile. Same broad shoulders, big hands, worn old jeans. Same gentle eyes. What was worse was that Taeyong felt the same, seeing Johnny completely unchanged. He felt exactly the same, like he’d never left.

Looking at Johnny held the same emotions it always had, from fear to grief to the love that was so encompassing he wanted to scream, to burst with it. 

He shouldn’t still feel like this.

_“You’re being immature,” Jaehwa had murmured, stroking a hand through Taeyong’s hair as he sobbed, deceptively kind. “Crying over your first love like this, did you really think you’d be so lucky as to keep him? I know this hurts Taeyong, but believe me, it’ll hurt more soon. Soon you’ll feel the pain of realising you weren’t in love; you were both just dumb fucking kids that didn’t know any better.”_

But Johnny knew where he’d go.

Johnny knew where to find him, all these years later.

And looking at him, Taeyong felt the same.

“You’re blond now.”

Taeyong startled back out of his mind. “Yeah,” he said weakly. “It’s… new.”

Johnny smiled. “It looks good. Suits you.”

The need to throw himself into Johnny’s arms was a physical ache. He wanted, needed that solace, though he knew he didn’t deserve it. He wanted to be held. He wanted to be told he’d be okay. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing his lips together so tightly that he felt the ridges of his teeth dig into the skin. 

“How are you?”

“Good,” he said. “You?”

Johnny shrugged. “Pretty good. My cat had kittens a couple of months ago, so the farm is a little hectic now that they’ve all got their climbing boots on, but it’s fun.”

“It sounds it,” Taeyong said. There were so many questions he was still too terrified to ask. He tangled his fingers together and tightened his grip until his joints started to click. 

“I needed to see if it was true,” Johnny said out of nowhere. “If you were really here. If you were in town like Kun and Yuta said. Jaehyun told me I’d be better off staying away, but he only says that because he doesn’t know you. Even Yuta couldn’t pretend to be angry at you when he rang and told me you’d spent the day with him.”

Taeyong swallowed. He didn’t know what to say.

Johnny continued regardless. “I feel awful for Mark, taking my side even though I told him that there wasn’t any sides to begin with. As soon as I saw him with your kids I realised you must have left the house so that he wouldn’t feel like he was going behind my back, right? You always thought like that, about the best method to take to make things easier for everyone else. That’s what I spent days thinking about when you left, you know? I kept asking myself what was going through your mind that meant that even if you hated me enough to leave, you didn’t tell Yuta or Kun. What had they done to deserve your silence? But of course you weren’t thinking like that.” His eyes were bright. Not accusing, but something close. Resigned to an old truth, maybe. “I thought for a while that maybe you were worried that it would come down to picking sides, that you were scared that they would pick me over you, so you left before it could happen. But you were never that selfish. It only left me with one viable answer, really.”

“Johnny…”

“You didn’t want to let your feelings come between me and our friends,” Johnny said. “You left without telling anyone because you didn’t want it to hang over them, or me, that some had known and some hadn’t. We were all surprised to find you gone, so we all grieved together. You didn’t want me to be heartbroken alone, did you?”

“Johnny-“

“Even now, you leave the house to make things easier for everyone else, wandering the town for hours to avoid burdening anyone,” Johnny said, barrelling on. He stood up, walking with intent towards Taeyong, walking with so much purpose that Taeyong stumbled back over his own feet, hurried to create more distance, flayed rare and open by the intensity of Johnny’s eyes. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Taeyong said. He was shaking, a fine tremor that started in his fingertips and ran up to his shoulders, his neck, sending his teeth chattering. His chest was impossibly tight, there was no room for him to take a breath. Why wasn’t Johnny shouting at him? Why hadn’t he spat his hatred? Why was he smiling at Taeyong like that, like nothing between them had gone wrong, like they were still the two kids that had kissed under the canopy of autumn trees?

“I want you to be honest,” Johnny said. “You’re never honest, you just do and say what makes things easier for everyone else.”

The noise that left Taeyong’s throat was pathetic, halfway between a sob and a yell. He shook his head.

“Did you want to leave, Taeyong? Did you really want to go?”

“No,” Taeyong choked. He covered his face, blocking Johnny out with his hands, closing his eyes as if it could transport him back to the centre of the morning’s hug with his boys, the scent of bacon and summer in the air. “I didn’t want to go.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for anxiety attack at the beginning of the fic! If you want to skip it starts with 'Johnny nodded hesitantly' and ends by the line “In the park.” xo

“Have you had dinner?”

Taeyong moved his hands away from his face, blinking up at Johnny. “What?”

“I asked if you’ve had any dinner.”

“No,” Taeyong said, lost. 

“Okay,” Johnny said, hands in his pockets. “You wanna come back to mine and grab something to eat before you herd the teenagers out of your house?”

He was going to be sick. “Johnny-“

“You’re welcome in my house,” Johnny interrupted. “I know how you think, and I’m not going to corner you. I’m not going to try and hurt you, Taeyong. I just want to make sure you’ve eaten. Did you have lunch today? Breakfast?”

Taeyong shook his head, staring numbly. 

“Then I’d like it if you came with me. I could bake you some sweet potato with honey, you always used to love it when my mom made it for us, didn’t you? Or you could have something else. Whatever you like.”

He’d do anything, say anything to get a moment alone. “Where’re you parked?” he asked, heart in his throat.

Johnny pointed over his shoulder. “Back street.”

“Can I meet you at the car? I just – I need to ring someone first –“

“Sure,” Johnny said, easy. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” he squeaked. “Just – please? I’ll meet you there?”

Johnny nodded hesitantly before turning to walk towards his car. 

As soon as he was out of sight Taeyong’s legs gave way and he fell on his ass, wheezing. He spread his legs and shoved his head between them, eyes squeezed shut as he fight to fight off the dizzying fog. 

This was so… wrong. Everything was wrong.

He rang Taeil without thinking about what he was doing, but it was Sicheng that picked up, voice low and calm. “Hi Taeyong, Taeil is in the shower right now.”

“Sichengie,” Taeyong said, on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, could you get him for me? Please?”

“Sure,” Sicheng said. There was the sound of rustling down the line as he moved, his voice suddenly lower, even calmer. “Are you okay? Is there anything you need me to do?”

There was a voice somewhere behind Sicheng, somewhere muffled from a distance, as if Sicheng was moving away, but Taeyong’s stomach constricted anyway. He knew the voice. “Is that Taeyong? What’s wrong? Give me the phone. Sicheng – I don’t care, give me the phone now.” There was a pause, the whisper of the phone moving from hand to hand, and then Doyoung’s voice clear. “Taeyong? Are you panicking?”

“Yes,” he gasped. He scrunched his face up. _“Doyoung.”_

“Is your head down?”

He made a weak sound, nodding despite the fact that somewhere reasonable in the back of his mind he knew Doyoung couldn’t see his movement.

“Good,” Doyoung said, voice strong but gentle. “Breathe in for three seconds, hold it for three, and then exhale for three. You know this, Taeyong. Regulate your breathing and your chest will ease. Want me to count for you?”

“Please.”

So Doyoung counted and Taeyong tried to follow with his breathing. He messed up on the first few inhales, but eventually found his rhythm.

“Wipe your eyes,” Doyoung said softly after a minute or so.

Taeyong rubbed the back of his free hand over his eyes and found them wet. 

“Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah,” he said thickly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Where are you?”

“In the park.”

“On your own?”

“Johnny –“ Taeyong swallowed. “He’s waiting for me by his car.”

He heard Doyoung try to fight down a noise of something. Worry, maybe, or exhaustion. “Okay,” he said. “Do you need me to come down?”

“N-no,” Taeyong said. He could feel the humiliation starting to flood him, swamping over the fear. “Thank you, but no. I just… I saw him and panicked.”

“Okay. Do you want to talk to me for a while? Will he wait?”

“I don’t want to make him wait for me any longer,” Taeyong whispered. “He’s already being too nice to me.”

“I don’t care,” Doyoung said plainly. “He can wait until I’m certain you won’t pass out. Tell me what you’ve done today.”

“I visited Yuta,” Taeyong said, still sitting. He was staring blindly into the direction Johnny had walked off in. what if Johnny had already gotten bored of waiting, or infuriated that Taeyong had asked him to wait in the first place? It would be deserved. If he had left Taeyong like Taeyong had left him, it would be deserved.

“Yuta? How is he?”

“Good. He’s good.”

“I’m glad. Sicheng invited me over for dinner, and as soon as I walked through the door I had the pleasure of watching Taeil spill the entire batch of bolognaise sauce down the front of the oven and himself. We ended up ordering Thai. It should be here soon.”

Taeyong found himself smiling weakly. “That sounds eventful.”

“It was. Now Sicheng and I are sharing a bottle of wine while Taeil tries to wash the scent of burnt garlic out of his pores. It’s a good job I got to the phone first, really. If Taeil didn’t wash thoroughly enough then he’d end up smelling for days.”

Taeyong laughed, rubbing at his eyes. “I need to go,” he murmured. “I can’t leave Johnny waiting any longer.”

“Then go,” Doyoung said. “But text me when you get home. Let me know when you’ve said goodnight to the boys and you’re tucked into your own bed, ready to sleep. Let me know if you need me again, or if you need Sicheng or Taeil. We’re all here.”

“Thank you,” Taeyong said. He closed his eyes, only opening them again when he was certain he wouldn’t cry. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Doyoung said. “Drink some water. Eat something sugary. Sleep for a full ten hours, Taeyong. Masturbate. I don’t care, just give yourself some care, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, standing. “Not to the masturbation though. Now I can’t do that because it’ll feel like you’re making me do it.”

“What, am I not sexy enough?”

“Not at all. If I thought of you with my hand on my dick I’d probably try and rip it off.”

“I’m hanging up now, offended,” Doyoung said dryly. “I love you, look after yourself, text me when you’re in bed. Got it?”

“Got it,” Taeyong said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck with Johnny.”

“Thanks,” he said. He started walking through the park towards the street Johnny’s car was parked on. Under the stars, Johnny was a lean figure against a big car, the only person out other than Taeyong. He waved when he saw Taeyong approach, though it was too shadowy to see his face. “I’ll need all the luck I can get.”

-

Johnny peered at him. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong found himself saying. “Sorry for the delay.”

“No problem,” Johnny replied. He turned, opening the passenger door for Taeyong, closing it softly behind him before walking to the driver’s side and throwing himself into the seat. “What do you think of my sick-ass wheels?”

It was big. A big shiny truck, pretty on the outside, covered in cat hair and hay on the inside. It smelt like cheese puffs and deodorant, but beneath that, like Johnny. Like he’d had Mark riding shotgun, cans of energy drinks rolling across the floor, face covered in cheese flavouring as he yelled out of a rolled down window, Johnny watching him fondly as he always had. “It’s nice,” Taeyong said.

“And it’s electric,” Johnny said, sounding way too enthusiastic. He grinned at Taeyong before sliding his eyes back to the road. “I saved up for years for an electric truck, you know? It hurt every inch of my soul to run though so much gasoline in the old car my dad left me.”

“You’re such a loser,” Taeyong said without pausing to think. As soon as he registered what he’d said, he almost swallowed his tongue. “I – I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean –“

“Yeah you did,” Johnny said, still smiling. “You meant it, and you’re right. I’m the same loser I’ve always been, which is why I appreciate that you didn’t mention the cheese puff smell ingrained in the seats despite the fact that I know you can smell it.”

“What happened with the cheese puffs?”

“Yuta and Ten had a post-picnic food fight.”

“Oh,” Taeyong said faintly. “I assumed it was Mark.”

“I mean, a deeper, older cheese puff smell beneath the fresh stuff is probably Mark’s fault.”

“Is he…” Taeyong trailed off, unsure if he had the right to ask about Mark’s life.

“He’s at college, yeah,” Johnny said, picking up what Taeyong left unsaid. “Back for summer, obviously, but he’s enjoying it. He studies sport therapy and plays basketball for the college team. Jeno and Jaemin are staying with him for a couple of weeks before they all head back to campus together.”

“That’s great,” Taeyong said. Despite his absence, he felt pride at how well Mark had turned out. He was handsome, strong willed, and clearly as smart and as hardworking as he’d always been.

“What about your kids?” Johnny asked. “Wanna tell me about them?”

“What… what do you want to know?”

“Whatever you’d be happy telling me.”

They were close to the farm now. Taeyong recognised each passing street despite the darkness. He wondered if his boys had come this way while exploring during the day, if they had paused at the same old trees that had always caught Taeyong’s eye, if they’d laughed at the way Mrs Park’s old chimney looked like it was going to fall off the side of her house. “I thought I knew everything when I turned eighteen,” Taeyong murmured. He rested his head against the cool glass of the window, exhausted. “I think… for a while, my vulnerability and the fact that I refused to acknowledge it ruined my life. A couple of years down the line I realised that there were so many kids growing up without any family, without any good influences – kids that would turn eighteen and be forced into a world they knew nothing about with no safe space to fall back on if things got rough. I wanted to provide that safe space.”

“So you adopted?”

He hummed, closing his eyes. How exhausting it was to be open. “Donghyuck first. He hated me at the start, in a way that he was nice to my face but then I’d open my wallet and find all of the money still there but cut into pieces. I guess he thought I’d get tired of visiting, but after about four months he realised I wasn’t going to stop unless he wanted me to, and after that he warmed up. He’s been with me for around five years now. Renjun followed a little after, because he’d been friends with Donghyuck for years and the thought of him not having his own family made Donghyuck sick with guilt and fear. We visited him together, and not long after that there was the usual inspection and interview process and then he moved in with us too.”

“And the youngest? The beanpole?”

Taeyong smiled, his eyes still closed. “Jisungie was entirely unplanned. A friend in the foster system called me about him, this tall, skinny thirteen year old with a bowl cut and worried eyes. She wanted him to feel safe, and the only person she knew to call was me. He moved in with us as soon as was allowed, and we haven’t looked back. At first I think Donghyuck and Renjun were uncertain – Jisung was a stranger, and they were all nervous. It was a first for everyone involved, and there were a lot of sleepless nights for the first couple of months, but Jisung fit in like he’d always been with us, just like Donghyuck and Renjun fit with me like they’d always been there.” He felt his smile widen. “It feels like we were always meant to be a family.”

The truck rolled to a gentle stop. “We’re home, Taeyong.”

Taeyong opened his eyes and found himself staring at the farmhouse he’d always thought he’d end up living in. 

“You repainted,” was all he could say.

Johnny smiled. “Yeah. I did it with dad a couple of years ago before his arthritis got too bad. Jaehyun tripped with the septic tank hose and managed to stain the entire front of the house brown. It was either clean and repaint or deal with the fact that I’d be known as the shitstain farmer.”

Taeyong forced himself to smile back as they walked into the house. It was bright inside, warm and homely as it always had been, though the colours had changed, the furniture moved. He took his shoes off at the door, force of habit, though Johnny seemed happy to walk his muddy boots through the kitchen without a care in the world. 

The house was big, even with Taeyong fully grown, more fitting of the space than he had been as a child. It was too big for one person, even with Johnny being as tall and as wide as he was. There were too many old rooms, too many echoing spaces in need of laughter.

“Do your parents live with you?” Taeyong asked.

“No, they moved to the other side of town when mom retired,” Johnny said, rifling through his cupboards. “They wanted to downsize, and since grandad left me the farm, they thought it would be unfair to take the house.”

It made sense. Johnny was and would always be the centre of his parent’s world. It was good they weren’t living with him, really. They probably hated Taeyong more than anyone else, the boy that had broken their son’s heart. 

“They’ll be glad to hear you’re back,” Johnny said, pulling out a handful of sweet potatoes. “Mom’s always asking how you’re doing. She seems to conveniently forget that I have no idea.” He shakes his head, smiling as he bends down and starts rummaging for something else. “Johnny, don’t you keep up with our Taeyongie? I know you put your foot in your mouth and ruined things, but he’s a good boy, if you just apologised you know he’d listen. He’s so handsome, Johnny, are you sure you don’t want to speak to him? Invite him over for dinner, I’m sure I could persuade him to stay for an evening. You’d have time to say sorry then. Wouldn’t that be for the best?”

Why did this hurt so much? Nothing was happening like Taeyong had thought it would, but somehow it was worse. “You didn’t ruin things,” he whispered through numb lips. “None of this was your fault, Johnny. I don’t know what you told your mother, but my choice was my choice entirely. It wasn’t you.”

Johnny straightened, potato in one hand, chopping board in the other. “Hey,” he said gently. “Don’t be sad. We both did things wrong – we were kids, Taeyong. We were never honest with each other – that’s on both of us, not just you. It’s okay.”

It didn’t feel okay. “You were always too nice,” Taeyong said. He blinked, hoping the burning in his eyes was from exhaustion rather than another round of tears.

“If you think that, you clearly don’t remember how much I used to bully Doyoung,” Johnny said with a grin. “Poor kid, I was horrible to him.”

“He liked it,” Taeyong mumbled. He brought his fingers to his mouth before shoving them back down to his side again. “Doyoung likes any opportunity to argue.”

Johnny laughed, turning back to chop the potatoes. He left some of the skin on, just like Taeyong liked. The honey he drizzled was organic, and the cinnamon on top was new, but not unwelcome. At Taeyong’s stare, Johnny laughed again. “The cinnamon goes really well, trust me.”

“I do.”

The smile softened into something that hurt Taeyong even more. “Good. I trust you too.”

And for some reason that was it. “I’m sorry,” Taeyong said, high pitched and pathetic. Johnny’s smile fell away, his eyes widening. “I’m sorry,” Taeyong said again. “I’m so sorry Johnny, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry-“

“Hey. Taeyong, look at me – _Taeyong.”_ Johnny’s hands were sticky with honey when he put his palms against Taeyong’s cheeks and raised his teary gaze from the floor. Johnny looked tired and lost, like he’d spent years wandering in the forest with no path to follow. “What’s wrong?”

Everything hurt. Everything. What hurt most of all was the knowledge that he had no right to hurt. 

Taeyong screwed his eyes shut. “You shouldn’t trust me,” he said. “I ruined that. I ruined everything.”

Johnny sighed. “You remember where the couches are?”

Taeyong nodded, eyes still closed. If he couldn’t see Johnny, he wouldn’t cry again. 

“Okay,” Johnny said, voice soft. “Go sit on the couch baby, and I’ll join you in a second. Let me put the sweet potatoes in the oven and wash the honey off my hands.”

He stumbled his way into the living room, and just as he sat down Johnny entered, not pausing for a second before throwing himself onto the couch next to Taeyong and pulling him close. God. He smelt so comforting, he felt so warm. 

“I wasn’t angry when you left,” Johnny said quietly, his mouth against Taeyong’s hair. “I was angry before you left because I thought – I thought you ended everything between us and were forcing me to watch as you moved on. That hurt. That made me angry. When you left I realised… I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. That hurt more, because I realised that my anger hadn’t done anything worthwhile. All it did was make you feel like you had to go. We never talked it out, Taeyong. We both made stupid mistakes, but we were eighteen. No one knows everything, _especially_ at eighteen. I don’t know what you’ve been telling yourself while you’ve been gone, but not everything is down to you. You aren’t evil, baby, you’re not even mean. You left and it hurt me, it broke my heart, but looking back, I probably broke your heart first.”

He wanted to tell Johnny everything, to admit everything he’d ever kept caged inside, the stuff from childhood and adolescence and adulthood, the bursting emotions he’d flattened for both of their sakes, rotting him from the inside like sugar exposed to damp rain. Taeyong hadn’t kept his sweet core dry enough, and now he was mouldering like dead autumn leaves from dying autumn trees.

“Taeyong?” Johnny asked. “Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

“What happened to Seojong?”

Johnny pulled back slightly, frowning. “Seojong? I haven’t seen her for years. She moved to college, fell in love with another intern a couple of years later, then never moved back. Why?”

The last Taeyong had seen of Johnny was when he was leaving town. His mother driving him to the dance academy, with his head pressed against the window, his heart like a boulder in his chest, he’d driven past the old diner he used to go to after school with his friends, sharing a portion of fries. Johnny was sat in the booth by the window, smiling shyly as Seojong fed him a spoonful of her ice cream. It was a beautiful moment, something that should have been captured by a camera instead of Taeyong’s vindictive, jealous eyes. He didn’t treasure the pure, cute moment, he hated it. He let it haunt him as he settled into his dorms and stared out at the city skyline, wondering what the hell he was doing. 

“She was always so nice,” Taeyong said, barely above a whisper. “You made a lovely couple.”

Johnny tensed, but after a moment he sighed again, releasing his shoulders. “She’s still nice. She’s married now too, with a second baby on the way. I hear that she and her husband are very happy.”

“Good.”

“And you? Are you in a relationship?”

Taeyong smiled faintly, though there was little genuine emotion behind it. “Do you think I’d sit like this with you if I was?”

“I hope not.” Johnny’s grip tightened. “I thought about you,” he admitted. “Not every day, but almost. Every week, at least. Every month. Every year. I thought if I kept dating that I’d move on, but everything always came back to you. It drove me crazy, Taeyong. I see you in everything, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave like you did. This is my home; it always has been. If everything is you, then I guess that’s just how it’s meant to be.”

“Johnny-“

“I know it’s been years, and things are different now. Everything changes, whether we want it to or not. We hurt each other, and we hurt our friends in the fallout too. It doesn’t change the fact that I’d be happier with you in my life again, however you’d have me. I’m so sorry I made you feel like you had to leave, Taeyong, and I’m even more sorry that you felt like you couldn’t come back.”

He was going to cry again. “Johnny-“

“We were friends for almost twenty years before we were stupid enough to fuck it up,” Johnny said. “I miss that. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Taeyong whispered. 

“Then can’t we go back? To how things were before? When we were best friends and we were honest with each other?”

He was weak. So horrifically, pathetically weak. This was why he’d left in the first place, but with Johnny here, in front of him, what choice did Taeyong have? He could never say no to Johnny. His heart wasn’t strong enough. “Okay,” he whispered.

Johnny smiled, hesitant and sweet. “Okay? Friends?”

_Friends._

“Yeah,” Taeyong said, agreeing despite the way it broke his heart as much as the first time. “Friends.”

-

They shared a plate of honeyed sweet potato, and it was delicious. Johnny had been right; the cinnamon went with it well. Taeyong had been right to trust him.

Conversation was light but strained. After a while, Johnny seemed to realise that it was more exhaustion weighing Taeyong down than discomfort, as he suggested he take him home.

“You could come back tomorrow, if you like,” Johnny offered on the drive home. “Bring your kids, let them help Mark with the sheep. Meet Jaehyun, cuddle Baby’s kittens if you don’t mind getting chewed on while they teethe.”

He looked too hopeful for Taeyong to refuse. “Sure,” he said, as weak as he ever was. “Donghyuck would love that. He seemed to like Mark a lot.”

Johnny hummed. “Mark’s great. Your kids seem good too. You must be proud.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong murmured. “They’re my biggest accomplishment. My happiness.”

Johnny’s smile wasn’t unkind, but it was shielded in a way Taeyong had never seen. It was what he deserved, he supposed. “You’re very different, Taeyong.”

“I am?” he asked. “I feel the same.” Too young. Too foolish. 

“Most men our age wouldn’t sacrifice their early twenties to show a handful of angsty teenagers what it means to have a family,” Johnny said. His smile moved up into his dark eyes. “You were always selfless, but to see you like this is something else.”

Taeyong laughed awkwardly. “It wasn’t a sacrifice, Johnny. They’re my boys. You’d do anything for Mark, right?”

“Yeah, but I grew up next door to Mark. You didn’t know your boys before you found them. I’m not trying to dismiss your bond; I’m just saying that you should be proud of yourself. You’ve done a lot. More than most people twice your age.”

Taeyong hummed. You should be proud of yourself. How many times had he heard that? And how many times has he managed to talk himself out of it in the end? He’s always been too good at convincing himself everyone else was wrong and his meanest thoughts were right. “I needed them as much as they needed me,” he said quietly. “We found each other.”

“I’m sure you did,” Johnny agreed. His hands were so firm on the wheel of his stupid electric truck, the dim streetlights flitting gold across his skin, reflecting off the warm depths of his eyes. “Twenty years old and already holding down a house, a steady job, and adoptions. That’s really something special, Taeyong.”

“Thank you,” he said. It sounded nice like that, like everything was perfect, a fairy tale he could tell his grandkids one day. It was so nice to look back and see the happy moments, instead of the ones with his head inside the toilet, unable to stop vomiting, the days on end without sleep, the diminishing weight and protruding bones, the fear that everything was going to fall away again and he’d be left with nothing. The fear that he’d fail and hurt his boys more than he helped them. The fear that he wouldn’t be enough.

Johnny pulled up to the curb and kept the engine running. “See you tomorrow?” he asked.

Taeyong nodded before he could think of an excuse. “Yes,” he said. “Bright and early.”

Johnny grinned. “Great. Sleep well.”

“You too. Thank you for the hospitality and the food.”

“Any time, Taeyong. Don’t be a stranger anymore.”

He forced another smile. “I won’t.”

He made sure to wave as Johnny pulled away, then stood there in the warm summer evening for another couple of minutes before he returned to the house, schooling his expression into happy interest, ready to question the boys on their evening.

He needn’t have bothered. 

Renjun and Donghyuck were snuggled together on the couch, mouths open as they slept. The television was playing at a low volume, and on the rug in front of the fireplace, Jisung slept with his head on Chenle’s lap. 

Chenle waved at Taeyong as he entered, before putting his finger to his lips and gesturing to the boys. “They wore themselves out,” he stage whispered.

Taeyong’s fears and hurts melted away. He nodded. “Thank you Chenle.” He stroked a hand through the boy’s hair before kneeling down next to him to stroke a finger down Jisung’s cheek. “Jisungie,” he said quietly. “Time for bed. Come on honey, get up. You can’t sleep on the floor.”

Jisung scowled, opening his eyes blearily. “Taeyong?”

“It’s me. Bed time, okay?”

He nodded, scrunching his face up. “Is it late?”

“A little after eleven, but you guys were all up early, remember? Go get some rest.”

Chenle helped him stumble to his feet, and with quiet goodbyes they headed upstairs. 

Taeyong turned to the couch, onto his eldest. He knelt down and shook their shoulders gently. “Renjun, Hyuck,” he said. “Time for bed guys.”

Renjun blinked his eyes open, but Donghyuck didn’t so much as stir. “He was energetic today,” Renjun said quietly, eying Donghyuck. “Almost manic at times. I don’t think he knew how to handle having so much sleep since it’s been so long since he’s had more than a couple of hours.”

“I’ll get him up,” Taeyong said. He pinched a lock of Renjun’s hair before stroking his knuckle across the tip of his nose. “Go brush your teeth and get into bed and I’ll sort out Hyuck.”

Renjun nodded. He pulled himself forward and dropped an awkward kiss on the crown of Taeyong’s head. “We had a good day,” he said against Taeyong’s hair. “Thanks for the holiday. Thanks for everything, as always.”

Taeyong wanted to hug him, but there were times when physical contact made Renjun uncomfortable, and now, when he was being vulnerable, was one of those times. Taeyong settled for smiling instead, big and genuine. “You’re welcome,” he said. “As always. And I love you, as always.”

Renjun’s answering smile was sleepy. “I love you too,” he said. “Goodnight, Taeyong.”

And then there was Donghyuck. 

Taeyong shook him again. “Donghyuck. Honey, can you wake up?”

His head lolled. 

Taeyong pressed a hand to his warm cheek, then his forehead, checking his temperature. He shook again. “Donghyuck.”

He groaned, brow furrowing, but his eyes didn’t open.

Taeyong sighed. “Honey, you weigh more than me now, don’t make me do this.”

He didn’t stir.

Taeyong groaned pathetically before manoeuvring himself onto his feet, turning around to drag Donghyuck’s arms over his shoulders and awkwardly scoop him onto his back. He grunted under the weight, but despite the noises, Donghyuck wasn’t too heavy, and Taeyong had five years of carrying him to bed under his belt. They had both adapted to their roles well.

By the time he had dropped Donghyuck as gently as possible into bed, Renjun was snuggled down in the bed opposite, watching fondly as Taeyong wrestled Donghyuck’s socks off his feet. He kept the rest of his clothes, but untucked his shirt and pulled the sheets up to his chin, before stroking the hair back from his forehead. “Sleep well,” he murmured. His eyes flicked back to Renjun. “Both of you.”

Jisung and Chenle were both snuggled down in their room, the lights off when Taeyong checked. He didn’t want to disturb them, so he closed the door softly and headed back downstairs to his own room, turning the television and the lights off as he went. 

He rang Doyoung and told him about the evening, and after a handful of initial complaints, Doyoung fell into a rhythm about describing his work and other mundane things, such as the Thai food he’d eaten for dinner, Taeil’s heavy garlic scent, Sicheng’s role in a newly opened museum. Taeyong fell asleep to the sweet timbre of Doyoung’s murmur, and his dreams were pleasantly empty. All he saw were fields.

-

Jaehyun was much more handsome than Taeyong had expected. He was a little shorter, but twice as wide, his arms thick, his smile suspicious but polite as he shook Taeyong’s hand with a callused grip. “Nice to meet you.”

He was trying, which was sweet, despite his obvious distrust. “You don’t have to pretend,” Taeyong said softly. “I’ve not done anything right yet; I don’t blame you for not wanting me here. Thank you for the welcome, and I’m glad to meet you, but I want you to be comfortable. If I make things too difficult, let me know and I’ll think of an excuse to leave that won’t hurt anyone’s feelings.”

Jaehyun blinked rapidly. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You really are as nice as Yuta said. Fuck this, I’m sticking to my own business.” He grabbed Taeyong’s hand and shook it again, more enthusiastically this time. “Do you want to help me make coffees for everyone? I could do with a hand since it looks like Johnny is busy.”

Taeyong looked over to where Johnny had Mark over one shoulder, Donghyuck over the other. They were spinning, and all three were laughing manically. Renjun was cherry red between Jeno and Jaemin, leaning against a wall with one of the kittens in his arms. Jisung and Chenle were out of sight, but Taeyong could hear Chenle’s laughter ringing out. 

“I can help with drinks.”

They made themselves comfortable in Johnny’s kitchen, and while Jaehyun brewed coffee, Taeyong set out the mugs and poured tea for Jisung and Chenle, who still scowled at coffee like it had personally offended them both. Jaehyun chatted absentmindedly as he worked, telling Taeyong about his dog, about meeting Ten for the first time, about living so many years next to Kun, hearing his piano during summer nights when they both had their windows open. 

“He’s nice,” Doyoung had said after the first visit. “Jaehyun is handsome, kind, and entirely too nice.”

“Too nice for what?” Taeyong had asked.

“Too nice to force me to come back and stay,” Doyoung said. He’d raised his wine to his lips, and that had been the end of it.

Looking at Jaehyun now, Taeyong could kind of understand. If Doyoung had stayed in their small town and met Jaehyun, they would have ended up together faster than the grass grows. As things were, Doyoung hadn’t stayed. He hadn’t fled as Taeyong had, but had ran with his arms outstretched, aiming for the distant stars. Jaehyun was as grounded as a tree, kind and even-tempered, and he seemed altogether too kind to stand between Doyoung and whatever impact he was hurtling towards. 

“How do you take your coffee, Taeyong?” Jaehyun asked, sugar in hand.

“Two sugars please,” Taeyong replied. “A little milk.”

Two dimples pressed into Jaehyun’s cheeks as he smiled. “Of course you have it sweet.”

“What does that mean?”

“Johnny has always been a kid, right? Too fond of the desserts.” Jaehyun’s smile fell a little, not intentionally, but like he was regretting what he had said. “It’s enough to make his teeth rot.”

Taeyong smiled to hide the hurt. The insinuation that he was too syrupy wasn’t undeserved. “I know,” he said. “He used to hide chocolate beneath his mattress.”

Jaehyun regarded Taeyong, eyes not accusing, but curious. “He talks about you sometimes,” he said. “About growing up with you. Why did you leave?”

There were too many reasons to count. Too many factors that had pressed together in Taeyong’s mind, forming a solid, impenetrable wall he’d been unable to climb over. More than anything else though, was one fact he’d been certain of. One thing he’d told himself repeatedly, as he packed his clothes away, as he told Yuta he’d be over for lunch the following day, as he’d passed Johnny on his date in the diner. “I thought Johnny would be better off if I left,” Taeyong said. “I thought it would be better for him if I didn’t come back.”

Jaehyun nodded, eyes sliding from Taeyong to somewhere behind him, slightly to the left, where the door was.

Taeyong’s stomach dropped.

Johnny was stood in the doorway, eyes dark, expression sombre. “You were wrong,” he said. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!!!! Life has been doing a lot, but I hope everyone enjoys! xo

Doyoung’s arrival came suddenly, without fanfare, just as his exit had been. Taeyong was buttering toast for Chenle’s breakfast when the door creaked open, and it was immediately evident from Donghyuck’s mischievous glee that it was Doyoung wrestling with bags.

Taeyong quickly passed Chenle his plate, brushing past the other boys on their way for food. It was evident from the sweat, and heat radiating off Doyoung that he didn’t particularly want a hug, but Taeyong wanted one, and that was what mattered. He clung to him like a lifeline, and after a couple of seconds of tense grumbling, Doyoung’s arms encircled him too.

“I knocked on Kun’s door for five minutes, rang both of them multiple times, and nothing. They’re either sleeping with earbuds or too busy fucking to answer the door.”

Taeyong laughed into Doyoung’s neck. “You know they don’t get up until seven. It’s like Kun has a ritual that even Ten can’t disturb.”

“It’s quarter to seven now, you think they’d make the effort of dragging themselves out of bed fifteen minutes early to see to their guest.”

Taeyong shrugged, pulling back. “Maybe they’re just heavy sleepers.”

Doyoung stared at him, fondly unimpressed. “Can I have some coffee please?”

“Of course,” Taeyong said, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the kitchen. They passed the dining room, and all the boys waved cheerily. When Donghyuck fluttered his lashes, Doyoung’s lip curled. It was a common sight, but a happy one. Taeyong found himself smiling as he filled the kettle and searched for the coffee he had tried to hide from Chenle.

“You seem more settled than you sounded over the phone.”

He turned back to find Doyoung gazing at him, dark eyes as knowing as they always were. He was the only one Taeyong had never been able to truly hide from. “I’m okay,” Taeyong said gently. “How are you? How is work?”

“It sucks, but at least they’re paying me more since my tantrum,” Doyoung said. He leant against the counter, shaking his head to rearrange the hair that had fallen into his eyes. “How’s Johnny?”

“Fine,” Taeyong said.

“That didn’t sound particularly genuine.”

“I mean it,” Taeyong said, trying to sound slightly more convincing. “He’s… in a way, like he always was. Busy, but always smiling. He gets on well with the boys. We’re friends again, I think.”

“Friends?”

“Yeah.” The kettle clicked, turning itself off. Taeyong poured the hot water, steeping the ground coffee before adding a spoonful of honey for the sweet tooth Doyoung liked to pretend he didn’t have. “There’s a lot we haven’t talked about, but I think that’s for the best. We don’t need to collect the skeletons in each other’s closets to be nice to each other.”

“Of course you don’t,” Doyoung agreed. “But you could attempt to at least be honest with him. Does he know you’re still in love with him?”

“That’s not pertinent,” Taeyong said tightly, passing over the coffee. He poured one for himself, despite knowing it would make him jittery. Doyoung was a lot to handle this early in the morning, which lead to an odd, concerning thought. “Why are you here before seven? What time did you set off?”

Doyoung sipped his coffee. “Just after four.”

_“Why?”_

“Five days in a row off work is the longest holiday I’ve had in years. I’m not wasting the first morning of it stuck in daytime traffic when I could be here lecturing you about your life choices.”

Taeyong frowned. “That’s not healthy, Doyoung. You need more time off.”

“That wasn’t what we negotiated when they increased my salary,” Doyoung said, unbothered. “My bosses know I don’t have a life, so it didn’t even come into the conversation. What would I do with more time off, anyway? Sit in my apartment and think about how much sex I’m not having because men I’m attracted to always disappoint me?”

From the other room, Renjun made a gagging noise. “We can hear you!” he called. “Doyoung is forbidden from saying sex in this house!”

Doyoung smiled and raised his voice. “How about intercourse? Coitus? Lovemaking? Genital cohabitation? Fucking?”

Taeyong smacked his arm. “Shut up!” he hissed, though it was mostly drowned out by the chorus of wails from the dining room. “They’re eating breakfast.”

“I don’t think the word sex is going to put them off their food,” Doyoung said, laughing.

“The thought of you having it will!” Donghyuck yelled.

The smile fell from Doyoung’s face with a speed that only Donghyuck could cause. “Shut up, brat!” he shouted back. “Don’t make me come in there!”

“No, don’t do it!” Donghyuck laughed. “You might infect us with your virgin energy!”

“I’m not a virgin!”

“Your sock doesn’t count!”

Taeyong marched through. “You might be a legal adult, Donghyuck, but while you’re eating the toast I buttered for you, you’ll be polite.”

With his mouth full and his cheeks round, Donghyuck nodded. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve missed Doyoung. It’s been so long since I got to make fun of him.”

Taeyong was grateful that Chenle and Jisung were so engrossed in a video on their phones that they hadn’t seemed to notice the conversation. He tried to stay tough, but both Donghyuck and Renjun were grinning so widely, and when he peered back into the kitchen, Doyoung was hiding an obvious smile with his coffee. Taeyong couldn’t even pretend to be mad. “Just be careful,” he said, deflating. He leant over the table to brush some crumbs off Donghyuck’s cheek. “This is a small town. People can be conservative, and I’m sure a lot of people wouldn’t appreciate you shouting about sex.”

Donghyuck pouted. “But Doyoung started it.”

“He’ll be told off too,” Taeyong assured him. “But you have to make sure that you behave more maturely than Doyoung okay? Don’t follow his example.”

“Hey!” Doyoung called.

“Grow up and I won’t have to do this!” Taeyong yelled back.

“I’m _so_ grown. I iron my tie before bed every single night!”

“That just means you’re weird,” Renjun called, apparently taking Donghyuck’s side. “You shouldn’t be proud.”

Doyoung chose that moment to succumb. He muttered something that sounded vaguely insulting, but he didn’t argue back. Taeyong frowned at the boys, but when they offered him a hand each, he high fived them anyway. He couldn’t help himself. If they were having fun bullying Doyoung, it was just because they’d followed Taeyong’s example. He could hardly complain.

Besides, the sun was shining and the skies were clear. There was a long day ahead, and Taeyong wanted to make the most of it.

-

After breakfast, Doyoung drove back to Kun’s house to finally see if hosts were awake. The boys all ran around Taeyong, rushing to get ready for their walk. Mark was driving over to squeeze them all into his car and take them on the walk that led to a small lake he knew from trips with Johnny and Taeyong when they were all younger. Lakes were dotted around the landscape, nestled between the hills, but they’d always enjoyed visiting the small one at the edge of the forest. It was quiet and private, and because there was very little clearing between the trees, not many other people used it for swimming. Taeyong remembered that they’d always loved the trees. Climbing to the top only to watch Yuta throw himself off the highest branch and into the deep water, fully clothed, wearing a smile bright enough to rival the sunniest of days. Johnny always went second, and as soon as he looked back at Taeyong and smiled before leaping, Taeyong knew that he’d be the next to jump. He followed Johnny everywhere, even if it was from the top of a tree and into cold waters.

From the way Hyuck gazed at Mark as he pulled up in his stuttering three door, something similar was about to happen there.

Taeyong kissed Donghyuck’s cheek before he left. “Be careful,” he said.

Donghyuck smiled brightly. “I always am!”

It was a blatant lie, but for once Taeyong let it slide. Mark waved, more comfortable with Taeyong than he had been a couple of days ago, but clearly still shy. Taeyong waved back. “Look after my boys, okay, Mark?”

“I will!”

“That includes you.”

Mark turned pink. “Oh! Hahaha… Don’t worry, I’ll keep everyone safe. See you later, Taeyong.”

He smiled. “Bye. Have fun!”

“We will!”

-

Taeyong made it to Kun’s by half past ten, after a slow morning of cleaning, shopping, and readying himself to face whatever was to come. The sun was especially hot, so he was in baggy shorts and an even baggier shirt that had probably belonged to a bodybuilder before Taeyong had found it in a charity shop for a reduced price. It had Madonna on, and that’s all he cared about.

To his surprise, it was Yuta that answered the door when he knocked. He looked Taeyong up and down, then whistled. “Hey, baby. You wanna be touched for the very first time?”

Somewhere behind, Kun made an odd noise. “Are you butchering Like a Virgin for the sake of a bad pick up line?”

Doyoung groaned. “No more talk about virginity! I got enough from Donghyuck this morning.”

Johnny laughed, and Taeyong realised that he was the last to arrive. The house was already full. “You getting bullied by kids again, Doyoung? I thought that as you aged the people that made fun of you might age too.”

Yuta grinned at Taeyong, wide and happy. “Hey,” he said, quieter than the first time. “Ten’s rehearsing with his cute little goblin army, so we figured today would be a good day to go throw him a little surprise gathering for his recent successes.”

“Oh,” Taeyong said, immediately gooey in the centre. “That sounds lovely.”

“Yeah.” Yuta opened the door. “Johnny brought the fucking goods, man. Grab a balloon and start blowing or help Doyoung de-thorn all of those roses for the flower arrangements.”

As Taeyong wandered into the lounge, Doyoung looked up from his pile of flowers. His hands were already bloody.

“This sucks,” he said. “My fingers hurt, and I don’t even _like_ Ten.”

Kun just smiled, full of peace. “If you finish the roses before lunch I’ll let you borrow some bandaids.”

“Borrow? I can’t even keep them?”

“Do you know how much money it cost to order all of these roses? Are you really going to make me remortgage my house over a box of bandages or are you going to pay me back like a good friend?”

“I didn’t make you buy all of these fucking roses!”

“Oh boy,” Yuta muttered. He passed Taeyong a steaming coffee. “Here we go. Third time in the past forty minutes.”

Kun frowned at Doyoung. “You’d rather Ten went without a party?”

“I’d rather my hands went without thorns!”

“So be more careful.”

Doyoung looked ready to explode. He bared his teeth. “Don’t get close to me, Kun. I’m inches from using your huge forehead as a dart board with these thorns, and then we’ll see how you like the roses.”

Johnny wandered through from the kitchen. He winked at Taeyong. “Boys,” he said, tone sarcastically benevolent. he stood between Kun and Doyoung. "If there is any fighting today, it will be sexy. I don’t want this… genuine disagreement. No. If you want to fight, oil yourselves up and do it on the lawn.”

“Shut up, Johnny,” they both snapped.

Johnny grinned, and like that, the problem had been diffused.

“Like always,” Yuta said under his breath. “Johnny being an ass brings everyone else together.”

Taeyong blinked. He hadn’t realised, but it was just the five of them. The five they used to be. The five they had always been, together or apart.

And just like always, Johnny was in the middle, setting the mood.

He was looking at Taeyong, eyes gentle and playful. “Yong? You wanna see who can blow up the most balloons in two minutes?”

Yuta laughed. “You’ll try too hard and faint.”

“Maybe.” Johnny shrugged. He was still looking at Taeyong. “Well?”

He always followed Johnny everywhere, even if it was from the top of a tree and into cold waters.

“Sure,” he said.

Two minutes later, they had fifteen balloons between them, and absolutely no breath.

Kun fanned Taeyong with a magazine while he wheezed. Less sympathetic, Doyoung poked Johnny’s shoulder until he straightened his hunched over spluttering and took a lungful of air.

“I won.” Taeyong groaned. “But at what cost?”

Johnny glared, though his ire was softened by his adorable pout. “You only won because you made that fart noise with your balloon and made me laugh. You sabotaged my efforts.”

“It’s not my fault you have the sense of humour of a twelve-year-old.”

“You exploited my delicate sensibilities, Taeyong. That was very wrong of you.”

They were both smiling now. Taeyong was lightheaded from the lack of air and the way Johnny’s eyes felt so warm on his skin. The way his smile seemed so genuine might have scared Taeyong if he’d felt more like himself in that moment. Instead, he just felt happy.

It had been a long time since he’d been happy without guilt consuming him, but Johnny’s smile was bright enough to banish the shadows from Taeyong’s mind, at least for this moment.

“Don’t pop any,” Kun said, snagging their attention. “Chickadee is already hiding upstairs; she hates balloons.”

“Oh,” Taeyong said, concerned. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, last time I checked she was asleep on Ten’s jumper. Once the balloons are outside she’ll perk up again and go back to biting Doyoung’s feet.”

Doyoung looked down forlornly at his socks. “My hands and feet are going to match.”

Yuta grinned. “Jaehyun would kiss them better.”

If gazes could start fires, Yuta would have been ashes beneath Doyoung’s glower. “Fuck you.”

“Where is Jaehyun?” Taeyong asked. Since he lived next door and adored both Kun and Ten, it seemed kind of odd that he wouldn’t be over helping out. He seemed like a helpful guy.

“He promised Chibi a hike this morning; he’ll be coming over when they get back.” Kun looked sheepish. “We forgot he’d be out this morning.”

“That’s not so bad,” Taeyong reassured. As an even more flammable expression took residence on Doyoung’s face, his attitude faltered. “…Is it?”

“You deliberately locked me out,” Doyoung said to Kun. “Didn’t you? You both heard me knocking and calling this morning. You wanted Jaehyun to hear me.”

Kun looked away, pink. “I mean, at least it didn’t work, right?”

“I was out there for ten minutes shouting!” Doyoung said. He too was reddening, but not from embarrassment. “I’d been awake since four in the morning and you left me on your fucking porch to dehydrate and starve instead of letting me have breakfast like a normal fucking person!”

“He meant well,” Johnny said. “Love causes us to do crazy things.”

“Yeah, love for the object of your affection, not for the potential of it in something you’re not involved in!”

“I’d say he’s pretty involved,” Yuta said, also taking Kun’s side. “His incredibly sexy neighbour friend Jaehyun and his old, brutally honest but kind of attractive friend Doyoung? Kun’s plenty involved enough to justify locking you out of his house for ten minutes in the name of romance.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if it had happened to you.”

“I know that, but I’m more intelligent than you. I’d have lubed myself up and slid in through the chimney.”

Taeyong pressed his lips together and tried not to laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Johnny do the same. Their eyes met, and the need to laugh increased. Taeyong stared resolutely back at his feet and tried not to let it escape. If he laughed, Doyoung would make Taeyong’s life miserable with his hurt puppy eyes.

Luckily, Doyoung seemed to realise that he wasn’t going to win. He sighed and rubbed his sore looking hands down his face. “This is why I moved away. You all suck.”

“We love you,” Yuta said earnestly. “And we know you better than you want us to. Just because you don’t like that we can see past your mask doesn’t mean we’ll go away if you get grumpy enough. We’ve always been here for the long haul and we always will be.”

“Oh!” Kun exclaimed. “That reminds me! My dad sent me an old album in the mail last week. He said it would be fun if I looked through it with you guys since two thirds of my childhood were squeezed between you all.”

Taeyong’s stomach tensed, but he couldn’t bear to dampen Kun’s excitement, or the way that Doyoung was so evidently eager to see the photographs he’d refused to take into his city home. They were all still with his parents, shoved in a draw in his old bedroom. Taeyong had a couple of pictures saved, but there were only a small amount in frames at home. Most of the photographs on display were of his boys.

Kun ran upstairs and came back down with a thick album between his hands and a fresh scratch on the back of his wrist. “I scared Chickadee by accident,” he said, immediacy dismissing all concern. “She’s fine, just grouchy. Come and look with me.”

They gathered around Kun on the sofa. Johnny and Yuta took the left, and Taeyong took the right with Doyoung. It was a painfully familiar position, like sitting on a time warp and finding yourself fifteen again, uncomfortably tight on a couch not made for five people, but happy all the same.

Kun flicked open to the first page, and all of them yelled at the same time, laughing at Kun’s chubby cheeks.

“You were such a beautiful baby,” Taeyong said, going misty-eyed. “Your mother looks so proud to be holding you.”

Kun turned pink. He quickly flicked through the next couple of pages before slowing when he reached the age that they’d began to meet. School years, where Kun still had round cheeks, but now he had serious eyes and a funny haircut, just like the rest of them.

Doyoung pointed. “Look! Band practice!”

The photo was grainy, clearly taken by another young student. Kun was stood with a clarinet between his hands, a shy smile on his face. Next to him was Doyoung, expressionless as he held his flute.

“Doyoung kind of looks like he wants to kill someone,” Johnny said.

“I did,” Doyoung said. “I fucking hated that class. Kun was the only tolerable person there.”

Yuta hummed. “Was that kid I punched when we were teenagers from your band class?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung said, grim. “He put cream cheese inside my flute.”

Yuta shrugged. “He paid for it.”

Doyoung smiled faintly, softening. “I guess he did.”

They continued through the pages. Doyoung cropped up frequently after that first photo, and then Yuta started making appearances. Shortly after, Johnny and Taeyong joined, and then that was it. The damn had broken, and all the pictures after that had all five of them. It was no longer Kun’s childhood, it was everyone’s.

At fourteen, they were at the lake with Johnny and Yuta’s first girlfriends, all laughing hysterically from too much sun, water, and sugar.

Taeyong’s first terrible dye job a couple of weeks later, the strands white and brittle but his smile so wide and proud.

The undercut Taeyong had given Johnny a couple of days later, in progress at the time of the photo, Kun holding Johnny’s hair back while Taeyong shaved, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he concentrated.

Kun, Yuta, and Johnny taking photos under the table while they were meant to be in detention for getting into a fight for Doyoung, bruised and grinning anyway, as cocky as any seventeen-year-old that had held their ground in a fight.

Taeyong pointed. “Where was I?” He could remember the event, but he didn’t remember detention. He didn’t remember much of what had happened after the first fist had made impact.

Johnny laughed. “You were in the office demanding better anti-bullying legislation at a regional level. They couldn’t force you into detention.”

“Ah,” Taeyong said. He remembered it now, vague as it was. He hadn’t actually hit anyone, too busy dragging Doyoung away from everyone else, but he’d been fired up enough to shout at the principal and then cry for an hour. The latter half probably didn’t do as much good, but it was cathartic at least.

Doyoung squeezed his knee. “You got them suspended, Taeyong. You made a big difference for me.”

“There were a lot of bad people at school,” Kun said faintly. He flicked to the next page, where they were still bruised, but still smiling. They were camping in the woods somewhere behind Johnny’s farm, Kun, Doyoung, and Yuta roasting marshmallows. Taeyong and Johnny were absent, probably somewhere hidden in the trees, kissing like they knew it be the last time.

“They weren’t all bad,” Johnny said. “They were just stupid kids. It can be hard to be a good person when you don’t know who you are yet.”

Kun hummed. He flipped the page again, and immediately everyone groaned.

“The fucking prom pictures!” Yuta yelled. “The hair! The suits! The ties!”

They didn’t look terrible, just young. Taeyong’s suit was a deep maroon, matching Seulgi’s dress and lipstick. They both looked happy, Seulgi with her head thrown back, laughing at something. Taeyong had a hesitant hand on her waist, the other one holding her hand. Doyoung had taken Sejeong, and they were both in a sweet, dewy green. Kun and Sooyoung had worn royal blue. Johnny and Yuta had worn matching black suits, and in this photo it appeared that Yuta was proposing to Johnny with a handful of hastily plucked weeds. They didn’t look terrible, just young. Young and ridiculous. Happy.

“Feels longer than seven years ago, doesn’t it?” Johnny asked, staring at the picture. “I can’t believe Seulgi has been married for half of that. I can’t believe my mom let me wear my hair like that.”

Taeyong looked up. “Seulgi is… married?”

Johnny smiled, gentle. “Yeah. Four years in Autumn. Her wife is Kun’s publishing agent, Joohyun.”

The thought made something in Taeyong ache. No one deserved married bliss like Seulgi, but the thought of another life he’d missed hurt right in the place he was pretending didn’t exist. “I’m so happy for her,” he said, genuine.

Johnny nodded. “She deserves it, right? Joohyun is amazing. They’ve both taught me a lot over the past couple of years.”

“Really?” It was an odd thing to say. “Like what?”

Johnny looked away. “Love isn’t enough. Nothing worth having comes easy. You shouldn’t take things for granted or one day you’ll wake up and find them gone.”

Before Taeyong could swallow his own tongue, Kun closed the album with a smack. “Right!” he said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “We need to get the balloons and flowers set up outside, people will be arriving in an hour or so. Johnny, I need you to go to Mingyu’s and get the stuff for the grill, is that okay?”

“Sure.”

“Yuta, can you see if Jaehyun is back? He said he’d bring some chairs over to help with seating.”

Yuta nodded. “Johnny, can you give me a lift to Jaehyun’s?”

Doyoung frowned. “It’s next door.”

Yuta nodded again. He pouted. “I’m tired.”

“You’ve done the least amount of work out of everyone here.”

“You couldn’t even begin to understand how exhausting it is to look this good.”

Kun stood. “Doyoung, Taeyong, come help me in the garden? I love you all dearly but if Ten gets home to find a half-planned party then I am not speaking to any of you for at least half a year.”

“You were the one that paused work to send us down memory lane,” Doyoung said.

“It’s my house,” Kun said, prim. “I can do what I like. Come help me string up the balloons or I’ll let Chickadee shit in your suitcase.”

Doyoung moved pretty quickly after that.

Taeyong did his part too, but his thoughts lingered on the album. On Johnny and Seulgi. On lessons learned the hard way, and the inflection of Johnny’s voice when he’d said that love isn’t enough.

-

Taeyong knew that Kun had helped Ten. It was hard to miss.

What he hadn’t realised, however, was just how much Kun had helped.

Ten wandered into the garden after his class, followed by Seulgi and the other teachers. Everyone cheered at once, and of course Ten burst into tears, but what Taeyong couldn’t get past, what Doyoung was so obviously struggling with too, was that Ten was wearing shorts.

“Oh God,” Doyoung choked out, putting a hand over his mouth. _“Taeyong.”_

But Taeyong was no better. He had his lips pressed together so hard that it hurt, trying desperately not to start wailing.

Ten’s scar was there, long and pale and entirely unimportant in comparison to the fact that he wasn’t terrified to show it.

Kun pulled Ten’s hands away from his face and kissed his tear-stained cheeks. “Congratulations on your first show!” he said.

Everyone cheered.

Doyoung sat on the grass in the middle of the crowd and cried.

Dismayed, Taeyong began to make his way over, but Jaehyun was faster. Wherever he had been in the press of bodies, he must have already had his eyes on Doyoung. He must have seen the moment he went down, and by the time Taeyong caught sight of them again, Doyoung was at the other side of the garden, leaning against the fence while scrubbing his face with a tissue, red nosed and red cheeked while Jaehyun hovered, so obviously trying to help but unsure what to do.

When Doyoung tried to pull back, embarrassed and upset, Jaehyun squared his shoulders and didn’t move. He said something, low and serious, and after a moment of staring up at the blinding sun, Doyoung nodded. He settled, rubbing his face again.

_Jaehyun seemed altogether too kind to stand between Doyoung and whatever impact he was hurtling towards._

Maybe Taeyong had been talking out of his ass when he’d said that to himself.

Content that Doyoung was being cared for, Taeyong wormed through the crowd to reach Ten. He needed to hug him immediately, to whisper his congratulations. He needed Ten to know just how amazing he was, how magical this moment was, how fucking proud Taeyong was.

-

The party went down well, and for the first couple of hours Taeyong spent his time reacquainting with people he’d barely known as a teenager and now didn’t recognise at all. It was pleasant enough, but as soon as Taeyong had known that Seulgi would be attending the party, he’d known she would seek him out.

It didn’t take long for it to happen, but it also didn’t happen the way he thought it would. As Johnny’s cousin, Taeyong had expected Seulgi’s wrath to be the strongest.

She offered him a plate instead. “Hotdog?”

Taeyong took the plate hesitantly. “Thank you,” he said. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Donghyuck, since his arrival with Mark and the rest of the boys, was still arguing with someone he had arrived with. This one was a boy Taeyong didn’t know, but he had a smile like Ten’s. That spelt trouble.

“Yangyang won’t do anything harmful,” Seulgi said, taking the empty seat beside Taeyong. She crossed her legs beneath her, folding up to eat her own hotdog, which was smothered in hot sauce. “He just likes annoying people.”

That didn’t calm Taeyong. “So does Donghyuck,” he said. “What if they start a fire?”

Seulgi laughed. She took a bite of her food, chewing thoroughly before smiling at Taeyong, soft. “It’s good to see you.”

He looked back to meet her eyes. She was so much more mature than he had expected her to appear. Mature, and kind. As kind as she always had been. “It’s good to see you too, Seulgi.”

“How has the big wide world been treating you?”

“Okay. How is marriage treating you?”

Her smile widened. “Great. It’s so good to be with someone that understands you without you having to ask for something outright, you know? Joohyun makes me so happy on a daily basis. My whole world feels brighter.”

He couldn’t help but smile. After all the shit Seulgi had been through in school, this was everything he could have wanted for her. “I’m glad.”

“Thank you.” She took another bite of hotdog. “Of course, you might have lived the same as me if you’d stayed.”

He winced, looking away. Ten was sharing a chair with Kun, sat on his knee as they messily fed each other forkfuls of mac and cheese. “I deserved that.”

“You did,” Seulgi agreed. “But that’s all you deserved. That’s the only jab you’ll get from me, I promise. I’m just glad you’ve come back, even if it’s only for a week.”

Taeyong smiled without humour. His eyes strayed to where Johnny was stationed at the grill, serving hungry teenagers perfectly cooked burgers. His apron said kiss the cook, because of course it did. It was Johnny. “I think I deserve worse.”

“You always did,” Seulgi said. “Eat your hotdog.”

Taeyong obediently took a bite, eyes widening at the unexpected depth of flavour. “It’s good.”

“I know; Johnny made it.” Seulgi smiled. “He’s always been a good cook, and he’s always tried especially hard to make delicious food when it was you he was serving.”

Taeyong had always adored Seulgi. He always would. That fact didn’t help soothe the pain of knowing he had hurt her. That he had disappointed her and left, just like he had done to everyone else. “I’m sorry,” he said. The hotdog suddenly tasted like ash in his mouth.

“I don’t blame you,” Seulgi said, surprising Taeyong out of the beginning of a spiral. “I’m sad you didn’t tell us you were going, but I can understand why you left. From your position, I don’t think I would have felt like I wanted to stay either.”

He didn’t know what to say. “Seulgi…”

“He’s my cousin and I love him, but Johnny can be an idiot when he wants to be,” she said. “And as much as he likes to hide it away, his temper is a dangerous thing. I could almost say he deserved what happened.”

“He didn’t.”

“No,” she said, eyes level. “He didn’t deserve it. But life is a succession of difficult choices being thrown directly at your face, and you either catch them and throw or get hit and hurt. Johnny tried to duck, which isn’t an option. That hurt you more, and you didn’t deserve that either. Neither of you deserved what happened, but that’s life.”

Jisung ran up to Taeyong, a brief but pleasant reprieve. “Taeyong, can I use your phone to check an email from school please? I’m close to running out of data.”

He passed over his phone easily and then studied Jisung as he typed. “You’ve caught the sun, Jisungie.”

His cheeks turned pink. “Yeah. Renjun has too, you should see how red his shoulders are beneath his shirt.”

Taeyong raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I tell you all to wear sunscreen?”

“We did, it must have washed of when we were swimming.”

“And you didn’t reapply it?”

Jisung’s blush deepened and he thrust Taeyong’s phone back into his hands. “Okaythanksbye!”

And then he was gone.

With nothing else to do, Taeyong pocketed his phone and made a mental reminder to buy some aloe vera gel so that the boys’ skin wouldn’t start peeling.

“Can I ask you a question, Taeyong?” Seulgi asked. She was staring after Jisung, who was reunited with Chenle at the back of the garden, both watching something over the fence.

“Sure,” he said, not sure at all.

“It’s between the two of you, but Johnny is my cousin,” she said quietly. “And he’d never tell me. I just… I want to know what exactly it was that made you leave. I know something happened, I know Johnny did something stupid, that he started dating around again despite his feelings, but he’d never tell me more than that. I just know that as much as he’s moved on, inside he’s still the same guy that knocked on your door only to find out you’d already left.”

Taeyong started to bite at the skin on the side of his thumb. “Did he ever tell you? That we started dating for real?”

“No,” she said. “But he didn’t have to. You were both so painfully bad at pretending you weren’t in love.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong agreed. The skin tore easily, and then there was the familiar taste of blood in his mouth. “But he wanted to pretend.”

“What?”

“He was scared. He wanted to keep pretending.”

“I don’t understand.”

The blood was all he could taste. “Have you ever read the short story _Lie With Me_ by Philippe Besson? You should read it. I read it when I was eighteen. It destroyed me at the time. I cried for days. No book has ever hurt me that much. Not even the Song of Achilles, and you know how much we cried together over that book.” He smiled faintly, but he didn’t part his lips. He didn’t want the blood to fall. He swallowed before continuing. “I didn’t want to hide, Seulgi. I know he was scared; he’d seen what had happened to you when you came out, how people were, but I didn’t want to hide. Being in love with Johnny was the one thing that hadn’t scared me when I was growing up. Loving Johnny was the one thing I felt confident enough to shout about.”

“But he didn’t want that?”

“No. We had an argument about something stupid, something unrelated. We used it as an excuse to get our frustrations out, and then we broke up. It was a mutual thing. Weeks later, Johnny was dating someone else, and I knew he still loved me, and I still loved him too. But I’m sure you know, Seulgi, the fear that people like us have. The fear that you’re not enough. I thought… I would rather love Johnny from a distance than watch him fall in love with someone else because we couldn’t see eye to eye. I refused to hide, and when he said he couldn’t deal with that, I refused to stay and watch as he got over me.” Taeyong laughed. “Can you imagine? What if he did fall in love? What if he proposed? I’d have been the best man. The best man, in love with the groom. I’d have carried the wedding rings; I’d have arranged the party. I’d have been the godfather for their first child.” He blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. “And I would have done it all with a smile, because if he was happy, then I could pretend. The acceptance from the dance academy came without me realising. My mother had sent in an application to try and boost my confidence, and it was only when they sent me a formal acceptance that I realised I could go. I could _go,_ and then maybe I wouldn’t have to live my life in this small town, watching the man I’ve always loved be in love with someone else. Despite all of that, it was selfish of me not to say anything, I know.”

“So why didn’t you?” Seulgi asked. She wiped her eyes.

Around them, laughter rang through the garden. Johnny was still grilling, Ten was still feeding Kun. Doyoung was helping Renjun with something on his phone, and around the people Taeyong loved, a sea of strangers stood between. People that Ten knew now, people Taeyong might have known years ago, but now he didn’t recognise. Families. Friends. They were strangers now.

“Why didn’t I say anything?” Taeyong repeated. “Because I was scared Johnny would ask me to come back. He wouldn’t have kept me from leaving, but he would have asked me to come back.” The blood was drying on his thumb now, another welt he needed to hide with a bandaid. He needed to sort it quickly, or Doyoung would start to worry again. “If he’d asked me to come back, I would have come back,” Taeyong said, staring at the wound. “I would have stayed. And I would have died inside.”

-

Jisung and Chenle slept the short ride back to the rented house, but both Donghyuck and Renjun seemed wide awake.

When Taeyong had gotten the younger boys settled for bed with water and an annoying number of kisses, the elder two were curled on the couch, nothing but static on the television.

“Hey,” Donghyuck said, grabbing Taeyong’s attention as he passed. “What happened to your hand?”

Taeyong looked down at his thumb. “Oh, it was from the roses,” he said. “Didn’t you see Doyoung? We match.”

Renjun hummed. “Come sit with us.”

“You’re not going to bed?” Taeyong asked. “It’s late. Aren’t you worried about sleeping in tomorrow?”

“We’re ditching Mark and his friends,” Donghyuck said, resolute. “Tomorrow is a family day. You’re stuck with us, so what does it matter if we all oversleep a little? Come watch a movie with us, Taeyong.”

It had been a long time since it had been the three of them and a terrible movie. Taeyong felt numb and fuzzy somehow, akin to the faint sound of the static.

“Taeyong,” Renjun said quietly. “Come watch a movie with us. Rest.”

_Rest._

That was right.

Whatever had happened, no matter how he had felt, he was here now. Here, with his boys. His family.

If they wanted to watch a movie with him, then he’d do it. He’d do anything for them.

He sat in the small gap between them, and only a couple of seconds later when Donghyuck had chosen something to watch, Taeyong had a head on each shoulder.

“Thank you,” Donghyuck said. “This is a fun week so far. I’ve got lots of good new memories.”

“Me too,” Renjun said. “And if you untense, this could be a good one too.”

Taeyong pressed his lips together. The hand over Donghyuck’s shoulder throbbed, the wound irritated and prickling. The hand over Renjun’s shoulder was cold at the fingertips, but beneath, Renjun was so warm. Donghyuck was warm too. They were warm and happy, and they were creating good memories. That was what mattered now.

If they wanted to watch a movie with him, then he’d do it.

He sighed, letting his muscles unlock. “What are we watching?”

“The Child’s Play reboot,” Donghyuck murmured, turning the volume up slightly. “It’s meant to be really bad. Sounds fun, right?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong said, eyes on the top of Donghyuck’s head. “Sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lie With Me by Philippe Besson literally made me cry on and off for like a whole month. It hurts but it is SO GOOD.   
> Any fellow tender gays looking for a sad read I would recommend this short novel xo


	5. Chapter 5

There were a lot of ways you could describe that first realisation of something more. The something more that made your heart beat faster and your throat flutter. Taeyong could remember the exact moment he realised he was in love with Johnny, but not because it was life changing or particularly memorable on its own. No, he remembered because he’d dropped a pan on his foot and broke his toe when love hit like a lightning strike. If he hadn’t had been washing the dishes for his mother, the memory probably would have blurred into thousands of others that contained Taeyong loving Johnny. It was that strike of pain, that burning hot second between realisation and agony that kept the memory fresh. That and the slight scar at the edge of his big toe from where the doctor had realigned the bones.

Taeyong had been fourteen at the time. It was a Saturday evening. Johnny was out on a date with his second ever girlfriend. Taeyong was washing dishes and contemplating dating someone, anyone, and why it didn’t seem right.

Then, lightning.

His toe was broken, and his world was off kilter.

His toe was broken, and he was in love with Johnny.

If he could go back, a ghost observing the scene in a detached manner, he’d examine his face. His expression at fourteen, that second before the pan hit his foot and all that was circling his mind was Johnny’s smile. Was it obvious in his eyes? Was there a wonder, a fear? Or was his expression blank until the pain hit? Was he yearning even then? Before the sadness reached him, a slowly encroaching tide swallowing his peaceful shores, the endlessly happy childhood that was twisting and turning into something more, something full of highs so bright they hurt and lows so dark they felt endless.

No teenager had an easy time. The transition between child and adult was arduous, and even when it was over, you spent the rest of your time wondering when you’d truly feel like an adult. At twenty-five, Taeyong was still waiting.

Watching Ten and Doyoung argue over breakfast made him feel a little better. At least he wasn’t the only one that still felt like a kid.

Distant thunder caught his attention and he turned his eyes to the kitchen window. Rain was due, but Taeyong hadn’t expected it so early. The morning was meant to be mild.

“-Yong?”

He turned back to his friends, eyes wide. “Hm? Sorry, I was daydreaming.”

Doyoung’s expression was critical, but Ten was nice enough to ignore what was probably a pathetically lovelorn expression. He slid Taeyong’s mug closer. “Your tea is getting cold, honey. Where’d you go?”

Half of his mind was with his boys, always. Still asleep upstairs, their first late morning of the week. Were their dreams good ones? Were they comfortable in sleep? Did they see Taeyong as the safe harbour he hoped he had become?

The other half of his mind was with Johnny. Always.

“I went into the fields,” he said, taking the seat alongside Doyoung. “Being back here… it really is strange. It hasn’t settled in yet, not how I thought it would.”

“How did you think it would feel?” Doyoung asked, his tone dry. “Like stepping back into a memory?”

Ten scowled. “Stop being snappy because you got cockblocked from riding Jaehyun into the sunset last night. If you didn’t want a slice of cake you should have told me when I text you so I didn’t have to come over and ask in person.”

“You didn’t cockblock me, idiot.”

Ten’s nose wrinkled. “Really? Then you need to step up your game.”

Taeyong took a sip of his black tea. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked mildly, trying to diffuse the incoming fight.

“I have last minute rehearsals then then a run through with the kids,” Ten said, immediately lighting up. “I can’t believe the show is tomorrow evening!” he wiped away an imaginary tear. “It feels like only yesterday I was making fun of them for not knowing how to tie their shoes.”

Despite his determination, Doyoung’s expression softened completely as Ten spoke. He turned to Taeyong, a little hopeless. “I’m helping Kun decorate his spare room apparently.”

“No rest for the wicked,” Ten said, blowing him a kiss.

Doyoung sighed. “What about you, Tae?”

“It’s a family day,” he said, still not quite sure what that was meant to entail.

Ten cooed. “Adorable. Give Donghyuck a wedgie from me, okay? Give the other three kisses.”

Taeyong laughed. It was odd to see Ten here in a big country kitchen, Kun’s shirt slightly too big and hanging off his shoulder. He looked at peace in a way he’d never really been before, not since they’d met in a practice room at school. Maybe that was what felt different about the town. Maybe it had been waiting for Ten. Maybe it was still waiting for Doyoung and Taeyong too.

-

The boys trooped downstairs just as the rain started to fall. The bleak weather was reflected in their expressions as their shoulders sunk.

“We were going to go for a hike,” Renjun said, frowning. “It was meant to be good weather until just after lunch.”

Taeyong stroked a hand through his hair. “It’s okay,” he said, soft. “We can find something to do indoors instead.”

There was silence for a second, and then Jisung lifted his chin. “We have our raincoats,” he said. “You made sure we brought them. Why don’t we go anyway?”

Taeyong blinked. “You’ll get wet,” he said faintly. “You might catch a cold.”

Donghyuck scoffed. “It’s a hot summer shower, the rain will evaporate as soon as it lands.” He clapped his hands together. “It has been decided by Jisung! We’ll get our coats and go out anyway.”

Taeyong blinked again. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Renjun said, apparently already resolute in their quick change of plan. “We’re sure.”

-

So they spent the first three hours of their family day in the hills, wet through to their skin despite their coats, laughing whenever someone inevitably slipped in the mud. It was almost always Chenle, but Jisung always helped him up. Whenever it was Taeyong, Renjun and Donghyuck each offered a hand.

It reminded Taeyong of camping as a kid. There was a charm to it once you were out in the wilderness, even in horrible weather. It felt like magic, like being one with the land in both the best and worst kind of sense. You were a part of the damp earth, you inhaled the smells of the nourished fields, your fingertips turned as cold as the wet leaves, the wind ran through you like it did the forests. But more than anything else it was fun. Going back to roots your ancestors had long since grown out of, walking back through the ancient trails, following their footsteps. Mud coating your hands and arms, hair hanging wet around your face, smile unstoppable as you watched the people you love squeal and run as lightning struck the ground miles away.

Until he was out in it, wet to his underwear, blisters on his feet and bugs in his hair, Taeyong hadn’t realised quite how much he’d missed the hills. Not really.

He hadn’t realised how much it would mean to see his boys slide down banks of clay mud and land in a disgusting pile at the bottom.

He hadn’t realised how much it would mean to see Renjun hold his hands out so steady, so gentle, waiting for a frog to land in his palms out by the stream in the bottom of the valley.

Donghyuck, his hood pulled back and collecting rainwater as he stuck his tongue out.

Jisung holding Chenle’s hand so tightly, no matter how high they climbed, how low they fell.

He hadn’t realised how much any of it would mean. Any of it.

Making them strip back at the house, all shivering in the towels Taeyong passed over. Boiling the kettle again and again as they lined up and took turns taking showers, changing into dry clothes to hover in the kitchen and wait for their hot chocolates. Cramming into a circle on the floor and choosing from dusty boardgames in the cupboard beneath the stairs, only for Donghyuck to get angry when Chenle, as the special guest, picked Monopoly.

It was still raining outside, the sky a deep grey, thunder an almost consistent rumble. Their clothes lined the radiators, drying slowly in the cloying heat. Renjun’s hoodie and Jisung’s socks newly acquainted neighbours for the afternoon, hanging side by side as the boys flitted between boardgames and movies, Taeyong content to follow along.

He hadn’t realised how much it would mean to fall asleep after lunch and wake up with his head in Donghyuck’s lap, the rest of the boys asleep in a puppy pile on the rug. Donghyuck was awake, his eyes dark but peaceful. He smiled down at Taeyong.

“Are you enjoying family day?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“I am,” Taeyong whispered back. “I love you. You know that right? All of you. I love you so much.”

Donghyuck smiled. “We love you too.”

-

Mark rang Donghyuck just after dinner, inviting them all to a party hosted by some local students. The skies had cleared slightly, the rain now intermittent, and each boy turned to Taeyong with big eyes and hope in their hearts that their contractually bound family day had finished when they’d washed the dishes.

Taeyong sighed fondly and wondered just when in his life his happiness had begun to revolve around making sure his boys were happy. “You can go,” he said, watching their smiles break out. “But back no later than eleven, please. We have a busy day tomorrow helping Ten set up, and you all need to be awake at a reasonable time. You can drink, but make sure it isn’t too much.” He pointed to Jisung and Chenle in turn. “No alcohol, please.” Then to Donghyuck and Renjun. “Don’t lose Jisung and Chenle. Make sure you all stick together and stay safe.”

They all nodded, but it was Donghyuck who spoke. “We’ll be good.” Then, batting his eyelashes, “Can I borrow your eyeshadow?”

Taeyong hummed, crossing his arms. He felt like his own father must have felt watching Johnny come to pick Taeyong up just before prom. The other boys and girls were in the car, but Taeyong had made sure he looked good for Johnny alone. Donghyuck was just as bad at hiding his infatuation with Mark as Taeyong had been at hiding his feelings for Johnny.

It was kind of cute.

“Go get ready and I’ll show you what matches your outfit,” he said, amused. “You’re not going to combine that hideous green shirt with red eyeshadow again. Not on my watch.”

So while the other boys were brushing their teeth and applying extra deodorant, Donghyuck sat on the edge of Taeyong’s bed with his eyes closed as Taeyong blended a peachy orange matte onto his eyelid. Above that he placed a shimmery pink, then a slightly darker liner. With his freshly dyed hair, his makeup, and his white tee, Donghyuck looked grown. Grown in a way he surely was, but that Taeyong liked to ignore.

He couldn’t ignore it now.

“You look like you’re going to cry,” Donghyuck said, evidently concerned.

Taeyong pressed his lips together and wiped the excess glitter from his fingertips. “I’m just proud of you. I’m so proud of who you are, how far you’ve come, how much of life you have yet to enjoy.” He stroked a hand down Donghyuck’s cheek, then raised his voice. “You too, Renjun. You can come in, you know? If you want eyeshadow all you have to do is ask.”

Renjun stepped into the doorway, slightly uncertain. “I didn’t want to ruin the moment.”

“You could never,” Taeyong said.

Donghyuck nodded, patting the bed beside himself. “There’s always room for you.”

So Renjun took a seat beside Donghyuck and chose the powdery lilac eyeshadow for his lids, a champagne glitter to top. Taeyong smoothed it on gently and pressed a kiss to Renjun’s forehead when he was done.

When Mark knocked on the front door, Taeyong opened it and was pleasantly surprised to receive a hug.

“Hey,” Mark said, smiling. “Thanks for letting the guys come.”

“You’re welcome,” Taeyong said, touched. Mark smelt the same as he always had. He’d always be a seven-year-old with round cheeks to Taeyong, and even now with his slim face and his wonderful smile, Mark smelt like a puppy. The smell of something so cute you never wanted to stop cuddling it. “Have fun tonight.”

Mark nodded. There was a car horn behind him that caused them both to jump, and then Johnny was walking through the gate. He waved at Taeyong, friendly. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but Mark left his phone in the truck.” He passed it over. “Your dad rang. Something about Jaemin’s parents giving you a lift home.”

Mark nodded, walking back through the gate with a sheepish expression as he rang his dad back.

It left Taeyong with Johnny while the boys gathered their phones and jackets from their rooms.

Taeyong put his hands in the back pockets of his sweats and rocked on his heels. “You’re taking the boys to the party?”

“Yeah, since the truck is big enough for everyone I thought I’d help out.” His smile grew. “Mark helped me wean the lambs today so I figure I can give him a lift across town.”

A day feeding lambs, and Johnny still looked like a rockstar. His jeans were slim, his shirt fitted. Taeyong was dressed like a slob. There was gravy splatters on his shirt from when he’d been making dinner. His hair was in a tiny bun at the top of his head, and his glasses were sliding down his nose from the humid heat of the early evening.

“That’s very kind of you,” he said. “I appreciate you including the boys.”

Johnny shrugged, his expression easy. “No need to thank me. You’d do the same for Mark.”

He was beautiful. He probably had plans. He was beautiful and he probably had plans, but Taeyong blurted out anyway, “Would you like to stay for a coffee?”

Johnny’s brows rose. “Sorry?”

“When you’ve dropped the boys off,” Taeyong said, fighting off the incoming blush of humiliation. “You could come back and have a coffee. If you like.”

He was beautiful, and he didn’t have plans. Johnny’s smile hit Taeyong like a punch. “I’d love to,” he said.

So Taeyong smiled, and as soon as the boys were out of the house and on their way, he ran to the bedroom to change his shirt.

-

By the time Johnny had returned, it was raining again. Just a drizzle, but Taeyong was glad he’d made the boys take their jackets. He was glad he’d changed his shirt, too. If he’d spent the whole evening smelling of gravy, he’d have had to cry when Johnny went home.

As it was, he felt almost composed when Johnny knocked on the door and waited for Taeyong to let him in.

“I like your hair like that.”

Composure floated away as another blush took its place. “Huh?”

Johnny gestured as he toed off his sneakers. “In the tie. It looks cute.”

“Thanks,” Taeyong said, blush climbing its way down his neck. He stepped back to give Johnny some room. “It was just so it didn’t get in my eyes while I was cooking.”

“You should consider wearing it up more often. Its nice to see you not hiding behind your hair.”

If Johnny said it sounded like a good idea, Taeyong would probably shave his head without thinking it through first. “Do you want to sit down?”

Johnny laughed. “Don’t be awkward with me Yong, not now. Just make yourself a drink and I’ll get in the way like I always do.”

Taeyong couldn’t help but laugh too, a little more relaxed. “Okay. What would you like to drink then, since I’m already making myself something?”

“I do remember coffee being promised, but it might be a little late in the day for that. What else do you have?”

Taeyong ventured into the kitchen and examined the shelves. Hot chocolate, tea, coffee, more hot chocolate, and a single bottle of wine Ten had stashed there that morning, removing it from his own kitchen to stop Doyoung from stealing it. “We have mostly hot drinks, or you can have Ten’s wine.”

Johnny peered at the shelf, easily looking over Taeyong’s head. “You have hot chocolate? Sweet! I’ll have a mug of that please.”

So Taeyong made two hot chocolates.

He waited for the awkward to return, but Johnny made it difficult, even when the silence between them lingered. Even at their worst, Taeyong always felt comfortable with Johnny. He always felt safe.

Johnny took a seat on the couch, waiting for Taeyong to join him before he took a sip of his drink, whipped cream lingering on the top of his upper lip. “I never would have a hot chocolate in summer, but it fits surprisingly well.”

“When you’re trying to keep teenagers away from coffee, you get used to buying sugary substitutes,” Taeyong said, earning a laugh from Johnny. “But it’s almost autumn anyway. Cold nights are approaching.”

“They always do,” Johnny said, eyes warm above the rim of his mug. “Luckily for me I look fantastic in sweaters.”

Taeyong giggled. “You do.”

“Yeah.” Johnny sat back and sighed, his head tipped towards the ceiling. “Weird though, isn’t it? I always remember that you suited my sweaters much more than I ever did.”

Taeyong’s humour faded. He swallowed. “Maybe your memory isn’t as good as you think it is.”

“I’m pretty sure my memory is flawless, actually,” Johnny said, still looking at the ceiling. He was smiling, but it was a faint expression, the ghost of genuine happiness. “I wish Kun hadn’t shown us that photo album. I always remembered how beautiful I found you when we were growing up, but I’d managed to block out my own melon head and shitty hair.”

Taeyong looked down at his crossed legs. “I liked it,” he admitted quietly. “Seeing the photos. And at the time… I liked your hair too. You didn’t have a melon head at all, you were just a kid trying out styles. We all were.”

“I knew it would hurt,” Johnny said, still smiling at nothing. “But I didn’t think it would hurt this much. Not like this, anyway.”

Taeyong didn’t feel so content anymore. He felt safe as ever, but this was a dangerous safe. He felt too safe. Like things were going to be said that shouldn’t be spoken. Things he’d kept locked away for his own good. “I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Don’t apologise,” Johnny said. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Yong. I did this to myself.”

Taeyong looked at his hot chocolate and tried to remind himself he was an adult. He was a man now, not a fourteen-year-old with a broken toe and an unrequited crush. He wasn’t an eighteen-year-old leaving all that he knew because he was scared he’d let himself rot if he stayed. “If this is too much, you can go,” he said. “I won’t be offended, Johnny. You’ve already been so kind to me, it would be wrong of me to demand more from you.”

Friends to lovers to nothing. Adding another link to the chain might be asking too much. Taeyong didn’t even know if he was asking for it, but the ache in his throat told him that if Johnny left he would cry.

“I was trying to be mature,” Johnny said weakly. “I’ve really been trying, Taeyong. I didn’t… I didn’t try to be mature before. I didn’t try to see your side because I was so scared of my own side. I didn’t see the point in reasoning. I was just a stupid melon head kid that took the boy he loved for granted until he was on his own and realised that nothing else really mattered with you gone.”

Taeyong scrunched his fists together. “I thought we were trying for friends again,” he said. “What are you doing, Johnny?”

Head still back, Johnny’s eyes slid to Taeyong. His gentle gaze felt like a caress. “Friends is fine,” he said. “Like I told you, I did this to myself. I just… its this week or never, right? To tell you that I was wrong. You apologised to me when I saw you again, and that hurt more than you leaving town. You shouldn’t have apologised, Yong. I basically chased you away.”

“You didn’t,” Taeyong said. He put his thumb to his mouth, nibbling at the edge of the already broken skin. “I chose to leave. I was the asshole. I should have told you; I should have told Kun and Yuta too, but I didn’t. That was my choice. It was a bad one, but it was my choice.”

“You should have told Kun and Yuta, but even that silence I can understand now that I’m not being an idiot.” Johnny’s smile dimmed again. “You didn’t want them to argue with me, right? You were worried about putting them in the middle of our shit, so you left without giving them a reason to blame me for it too. Lee Taeyong, always happy to take the place of the villain if it makes his loved ones safe.”

It hurt to be stripped bare by Johnny. It hurt a lot.

“I didn’t realise that until after you’d left,” Johnny continued. He reached over and pulled Taeyong’s hand away from his mouth, wiping away the blood with the edge of his nice shirt. “I didn’t realise when I started dating Seojong that you would inevitably find a way to blame yourself. I was just being an idiot. I wanted to make you jealous.”

Taeyong smiled, but he could feel the blood leaking from the edge of his thumb and into the cotton of Johnny’s shirt. It made him want to scrub his hands until there was no skin left to bleed. “Don’t lie,” he said, trying so hard to be gentle. “You really liked her.”

“I did,” Johnny agreed. “She was wonderful. But I did her a disservice too, because I didn’t care about that. I cared about feeling safe with her. Not safe in the way that you feel, you know? You’ve always felt like home to me, but with her I felt transparent. Just anther guy dating another girl.” Johnny’s eyes were dark. “I’ve never felt transparent with you, Taeyong. I felt seen, for better or for worse. It terrified me. It still scares me now.”

“Then why are you here?” Taeyong asked, trying to pull his hand away.

Johnny’s grip tightened. “Because the last time I put the opinions of strangers above you I realised it wasn’t worth feeling safe.” His hand tightened again, almost uncomfortably so, but not there. Johnny had never hurt Taeyong, not physically. “There was a lot of support for Seulgi when she came out in high school, but at home things were tough. She put on a brave face, but only me and my parents saw what it really did to her. The… needless hate, the lack of care, the sheer ignorance of it all – just because she wanted to be happy in her own way. She wasn’t hurting anyone, but people wanted to hurt her anyway.” His eyes shone. “That was hard. I never talked about it, but it scared me. Seulgi was always the sweetest, but she was attacked anyway. It was selfish, but I saw what happened to her and I worried for myself. I knew I’d be taking over the farm, and the other farmers on these lands are old. Traditional. What if they refused to make deals with me? What if they didn’t want to trade stock with the gay kid who took over his family’s farm? What if I ruined everything? Running from this town was never an option for me, and that scared me more than anything. Whatever we created together, I would have to stay here and live with it.”

“I understand,” Taeyong said. “I always did. Coming out is… its terrifying sometimes. Sometimes you can’t come out at all, and I understand that too.” He swallowed. “But I didn’t want that for myself. I didn’t want to be a dirty secret, Johnny.”

“You were right,” Johnny said quietly. “You were right to leave. I was too immature to understand that we – that kind of choice is for individuals, not couples. You had to decide for yourself what you wanted from life, and I was too absorbed by my fears to consider your feelings. I’m sorry, Taeyong. That it’s taken so long to apologise, that I was so selfish, that I hurt you again and again – I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Taeyong rubbed his eyes and tried to hold back the tears. “I forgive you,” he managed to get out. “I’m sorry too. For not being patient with your struggles.”

Johnny laughed, but it was thick. “I forgive you too. Can I hold you please?”

Taeyong nodded again, and the next thing he knew he was pressed against Johnny’s chest, tucked under his chin, and he realised what he’d been missing that morning, sat drinking tea with his friends. This town, as old as it was, as much of Taeyong’s history as it held, would never truly feel like home without Johnny.

He curled up tight, as tight as he could, and relished feeling small as Johnny held him tighter, arms wrapped around Taeyong, one hand heavy on the back of his neck, the other on his waist. He smelt like memories. The good memories. Kissing under canopies, when hiding was still exciting and each touch left a buzzing against Taeyong’s skin, goosebumps on his arms. When their parents would check to see how homework was going, only to find Johnny and Taeyong at opposite ends of the bedroom, red lipped and giggly as they stared down at empty paper and pretended they’d been working hard. When they’d stayed at the farmhouse together, squashed into a single sleeping-bag as Johnny whispered about decorating, how different it would look when it was their home together.

Johnny’s hand tightened on Taeyong’s neck. “Are you tired?” he murmured. “I can feel you drifting.”

Taeyong nodded. The day had been long, and emotionally he felt spent.

“Sleep then,” Johnny said, soft.

In Johnny’s arms, Taeyong finally felt like he could.

-

They both jolted awake when Taeyong’s phone started ringing.

It was nice to know that Johnny had drifted off too at some point, and it was funny too, having both of them fumble around in an attempt to find the phone and stop the ringing.

It turned out to be halfway under the couch, on the floor facedown.

Taeyong picked up without looking. “Hello?”

“Taeyong?” It was Chenle. “Can you come and pick us up? We’re in the park near the high school, and I don’t know what to do.”

Taeyong’s stomach dropped. He stood, fully awake, and strode towards the door to find his shoes. “Of course honey, I’m setting off now,” he said. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Chenle sounded like he was crying. He took a breath, but it shook so heavily that Taeyong heard it through the speaker. “There was a fight,” Chenle said. “I don’t – I don’t know what happened. Someone hit Jisung.”

Taeyong scrunched his eyes together and tried not to throw up. “Are you all there? Everyone’s with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Does anyone need to go to the hospital?”

“I don’t think so, but Jisung is still bleeding.” He sniffed. “I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault, honey. You did the right thing by calling me. I’m setting off now, okay? Ring me again if you need to, but I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

Chenle agreed and then the line went dead, and Taeyong was left to pick up his keys with numb hands. He dropped them immediately, but it was Johnny’s hand that reached them on the floor before Taeyong could react.

Johnny pressed the keys into Taeyong’s hands, eyes worried. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. There was some kind of fight so I’m going to pick the kids up.”

Johnny nodded. “Mark just text me that his dad picked him up and he’s grounded, so that explains that.” He put a hand on Taeyong’s cheek. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Taeyong shook his head. He laughed, almost hysterical. “We wouldn’t all fit in the car. It’s fine, Johnny.”

“I’ll stay here then,” Johnny said. “And wait for you to come back.”

Taeyong wanted to argue, but he also wanted to cry. More than anything, he wanted to see his boys. “Fine,” he said, “Stay here. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Johnny nodded. “Drive safe, baby.”

Then Taeyong was out of the door, into his car, and squealing out of the drive. He drove well over the limit, but it was night and the streets were dead. Nothing mattered anyway, not until he got to the boys.

-

It was Renjun he saw first, stood at the edge of the park. His eyes were red and his mouth was pressed into one hard line.

He crumbled into Taeyong’s arms as soon as Taeyong reached him. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “So much happened at once, and I drank more than I should have. I didn’t react fast enough; I couldn’t keep them away from Jisung.”

Taeyong hugged so tightly it was painful. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Renjun’s head. There was the scent of beer and smoke in his hair, but not enough to be worrying. Taeyong had seen Renjun drunk, and this wasn’t it. “Don’t blame yourself for everything,” Taeyong murmured, stroking a hand down his back as they separated. “I don’t know what’s happened yet, and we need to get everyone home. I’m not mad, Renjun. I just want to make sure everyone is safe.”

Renjun nodded bravely, wiping his eyes. “Everyone is okay. Mostly.”

Taeyong nodded. He gestured towards the car. “Get in, okay? I’ll round up the others.”

Renjun nodded and climbed in.

Chenle and Jisung were just inside the gate. Taeyong wanted to scream when he saw the blood on Jisung’s face, but his crooked, awkward smile calmed Taeyong’s spike of fear.

“Hi,” Jisung said, squinting in the low light. “I had my first fight. Are you proud of me?”

“Not at all,” Taeyong choked, pulling him down into a tight hug. He opened one arm and pulled Chenle in too. “You’re okay? You don’t need to go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine,” Jisung said. “It’s just a couple of cuts and some bruising. Nothing deep. Jaemin checked for me before his parents forced him to go home.”

Taeyong nodded. “Where’s Hyuck?”

Jisung’s forced cheer slipped. “On the swings,” he said.

Taeyong nodded again. “Get in the car and buckle up, I’ll bring him over.”

They walked to the car together, and it was only when Taeyong turned to check that they’d made it that he noticed they were still holding hands.

Then there was Hyuck, alone on the swings. When Taeyong found him, he saw that his eyeshadow was gone. There was glitter on his cheeks, but more than anything else there was bruising. A big, arching bruise under his left eye, one that was already darkening from red to purple.

Taeyong forced down his sob and knelt in front of Donghyuck. “Hi honey,” he said, quiet and weak. “You ready to go home?”

Donghyuck didn’t move his eyes from the ground. “Who is Jaehwa?”

Taeyong blinked. “Jaehwa? The only Jaehwa I know was a kid I used to dance with. Why?”

“What was he like?”

Taeyong put a hand on Donghyuck’s knee, unsure of where the conversation was going. “He started off nice,” he said. “But he wasn’t, not really. He was mean. He told me he was helping me practice, but he was deliberately teaching me the wrong things. He didn’t like me at all, and he wanted me out of the academy. Some people are just like that, Hyuck. Mean, but able to hide it for a while. Why? What happened?”

“His cousin went to school here,” Donghyuck said. “With Mark. It’s reached most of the town now, that you’re back. He said things about you that made me sick.” His eyes shone. “The things he said about you… I wanted to kill him.”

Taeyong pressed his lips together. “I don’t care about what these people say about me,” he said, trying to stop his voice from breaking. “Honey, you should have just walked away. Starting a fight over something like that…”

“I didn’t,” Donghyuck said, suddenly meeting Taeyong’s gaze. “I didn’t start the fight. Mark did.”

-

Things calmed down once everyone was back into the house.

One by one, the boys went upstairs to wash and change, and Taeyong headed straight for the kitchen to make another round of hot chocolates. He heard Chenle upstairs, murmuring to his mother on the phone. He heard the pipes creak as Donghyuck showered for the second time that day, the faint complaints of Jisung as Renjun cleaned out his cuts.

It wasn’t until there was a hand on his shoulder that he realised he’d left Johnny in the house.

“Mark rang me,” he said, giving up the gentle squeeze to instead wrap himself around Taeyong’s back. “Said he finally got to punch the kid that used to tease him for praying when he was nervous.”

Taeyong didn’t know what to say. He was still reeling. “Yeah,” was all he could manage. “Another hot chocolate?”

Johnny kissed his neck. “I’ll make them, baby. Go check on Jisung, I can hear him whining.”

Taeyong nodded mutely and wandered out of the room. Upstairs, Jisung was indeed whining. When Taeyong saw the amount of antiseptic Renjun was trying to lather on Jisung’s face, he understood why.

“Honey, I can do that,” he interjected. “Will you go check on Hyuck for me? I think he needs you right now.” He swallowed. “He doesn’t seem to want to talk to me.”

Renjun got up. “Okay,” he said easily, wiping the excess cream onto a towel. “But just so you know, it isn’t that he doesn’t want to talk to you. He’s embarrassed.”

“Of what?”

Renjun shrugged. “You always veered us away from violence. I think he’s upset that he went back on that so quickly.”

Taeyong’s heart crumbled a little. “I’m not mad,” he said. “Not at any of you. You didn’t start the fight; all you did was defend your friend. It wasn’t… the whole scenario was wrong, I won’t say you did the right thing, but you did your best. I’m not mad at you.”

Renjun nodded. He raised his voice. “Hear that Hyuck? You can stop sulking now.”

Faintly, through the bathroom door, Donghyuck replied. “Fuck off!”

Taeyong laughed, some of the heavy weight sliding from his shoulders. He kissed Renjun’s cheek. “Keep him busy,” he whispered. “Don’t let him sink into his own thoughts, please.”

Renjun nodded, composure that was lost earlier having returned. “You’ve got it boss,” he said. He reached up to kiss Taeyong’s cheek too. “Take it easy. We have a long day tomorrow, like you said.”

Jisung, on better behaviour with Taeyong than Renjun, sat happily while salves were applied to his small cuts. “I think they thought I was the oldest because of how tall I am,” he said as Taeyong tucked him into bed. “Mark threw the first punch, and then in retaliation the guy hit me instead. Then Donghyuck kicked him in the balls.”

Taeyong nodded and tried not to faint thinking about his babies getting hurt. “I’m just glad you’re all home,” he said. “Safe and sound. I can take care of you when you’re here.”

Jisung nodded, his hair fanned around the pillow. His smile was small but genuine. “It was kind of awesome. I felt like a badass when I got back up, but to be honest the dude wasn’t that strong. I don’t even know what the fight was about, I was just talking to Jeno about his cats.”

Taeyong pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said, pulling the sheets to Jisung’s chin. “Just rest.”

He then ushered Chenle back into the room, into his own bed, and followed the same routine of tucking him in and kissing his forehead. After a couple of minutes of gentle chatter, Johnny entered the room with an odd kind of waddle, one hand on his hip while the other balanced a tray full of mugs.

“Hot chocolate delivery from the sexiest maid in town,” he said, making Chenle and Jisung giggle. He winked at Taeyong, placing a hot chocolate in each boy’s hand before waddling back out and into the other room. Taeyong heard Donghyuck’s laughter through the walls.

“He’s nice,” Jisung said quietly.

“He is,” Chenle agreed.

They both stared intently at Taeyong.

“Okay,” he said, standing. “Goodnight, boys.”

“He’s really nice,” Jisung said. “And he’s into you.”

 _“Thank_ you,” Taeyong said, edging out. “Sleep well.”

“Mark said Johnny is still in love with you,” Chenle said.

Taeyong nearly swallowed his tongue. “Goodnight!” he squeaked, closing the door swiftly as he exited.

Renjun and Donghyuck were easier. They were exhausted, Renjun half asleep as he sipped from his mug, Donghyuck barely visible above the sheets. There was a glow on his face indicative of his phone under the covers.

 _‘He’s texting Mark,’_ Renjun mouthed.

Taeyong nodded, then leant over to kiss them both. “Goodnight,” he said. “Sleep well. I’ll just be downstairs if you need anything, so don’t hesitate to come and get me, alright? If it can’t wait until morning then it can’t wait. Don’t struggle up here, just come and get me.”

They both nodded.

“We have a lot to talk about in the morning, but it can wait,” Taeyong said. “About the fight, what caused it, what happened, etcetera. We need to discuss it, but you need to know I’m not angry. You’re my babies, but everyone in this room is legally an adult, and I trust both of you implicitly. We’ll discuss it like adults, and then I’ll find this guy’s address and tell his parents that their son punched an innocent seventeen-year-old.” The thought made his blood hot, but he stomped the anger back down. “But that’s for tomorrow. Tonight, you just get some sleep, okay? Goodnight, boys."

“I love you,” Donghyuck said, very sudden, very serious. “Thank you for coming to get us.”

Taeyong smiled, gently stroking a hand over the blossoming bruise on Donghyuck’s cheek. “I’ll always come and get you when you need me,” he said. “Even when you’re in your fifties. I’ll always come and get you.”

-

Johnny was on the couch when Taeyong returned to the lounge.

“Hey,” he said, arms wide open. “Come sit down, baby. It’s been a long day and you need a rest.”

Taeyong didn’t even have the energy to make a joke. He sat down and climbed into Johnny’s embrace, and he was asleep before he could so much as say thank you.

-

There was an odd point between being awake and dreaming that Taeyong had a history of getting lost in. He was in it when he heard Donghyuck’s voice, low and hesitant, calling his name.

He was in it when Johnny shifted beside him and asked, “What’s up, Kiddo?”

“My face hurts and I can’t find the painkillers.”

“I’ll help you find them, okay? We should let Taeyong rest a little longer. You’ll need to eat something first though or you could get heartburn. Why don’t you go make some toast and I’ll find the tablets for you?”

“Okay. Thanks.”

There was a hand against his forehead, callused but so gentle. If it was a dream, it was a pleasant one. “No problem, kid. Let’s get you sorted and back to dreaming.”

-

When Taeyong woke up, it was bright outside, and he was in his bed. The smell of cooking meat was heavy in the air.

He stumbled through to the kitchen, where Johnny was stood in front of the grill. He smiled at Taeyong, bright. “Good morning. The boys are in the dining room already if you want to go say hi. Do you want some of this bacon? There’s enough to go around.”

Taeyong rubbed his eyes, disorientated. “Did you get any sleep, Johnny?”

Johnny shrugged, still smiling. “Do you want bacon?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine first.”

He sighed. “Yes please to the bacon. Did you sleep?”

Johnny shrugged again, still smiling. “Go sit at the table with your boys and I’ll bring the food through.”

“I can help,” Taeyong objected.

Johnny laughed. “You’re still half asleep,” he said. “Go sit with your boys, baby. I’ll make sure you’re all well fed.”

Taeyong nodded meekly, too uncertain to argue. He didn't remember making it to the bed last night. He didn't remember anything after falling asleep in Johnny's arms. “Thank you,” he said.

Johnny turned back to the grill. His smile was visible in profile, just as beautiful as it was face on. “Thank _you,”_ he said.

“For what?”

“Coming home.”


	6. Chapter 6

From what Jaehwa had said of his family, they were an unpleasant bunch. They hadn’t supported his dancing career, his lifestyle choices, his determination to do what he loved. It was difficult for Taeyong to understand at eighteen years old – his parents were mild mannered and doting, his extended family just as sweet. The closest he could get were the families of strangers, the ones that harassed Seulgi in the streets for holding hands with another girl.

When Taeyong knocked on the door of Jaehwa’s aunt, he expected the villain out of a kid’s book, an old crone maybe, or an unrelenting businesswoman that hated kids.

The woman that opened the door was small, her pink apron stained. She smiled, polite and hesitant when Taeyong forgot to speak. “Can I help you?”

“Hello,” Taeyong said, still a little heavy from sleep and the ache of loving Johnny so ardently. “I’m sorry to bother you, but are you Sanghoon’s mother?”

Her expression veiled. “I am.”

She knew. Of the fight, at least, if nothing else. “My name is Lee Taeyong. I’m the guardian of Park Jisung, the seventeen-year-old boy that your son hit last night.”

Shame flooded her expression. One hand rose to cover her mouth. “Seventeen?” she asked. “He said it was between kids from his classes.”

“Most of it was. Jisung got caught in the crossfire.” Taeyong shrugged. “He’s taller than most, so I can understand it to an extent. I just wanted to make a point of telling you that your son’s first instinct was to hit a stranger instead of discussion. If Jisung had done it, I would want to know too.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “From one parent to another, I’m sorry for my son’s actions. I’ll speak to him.”

“Thank you,” Taeyong said. He bowed shortly. “And thank you for your time. I hope all of the boys can learn and grow from this.”

“Yes,” she said, subdued. “I hope so too.”

It was only when Taeyong was walking back to his car that she spoke again.

“Did you say your name was Lee Taeyong?”

He paused. “Yes,” he said, turning back but walking no closer.

“You know Jaehwa?”

His stomach twisted. “I did,” he said. “But not for a long time. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“He told all of the family about you,” she said. Her hands smoothed down her apron, petite and well groomed. Despite her words, her eyes weren’t hostile. “He said you ruined his life.”

Taeyong nodded. “I’m not surprised,” he said. “Once I solidified my dancing skills, I was awarded the contract that he wanted. I can understand why he resents me.”

“He was always a petulant boy,” she said suddenly. “And despite my best efforts, Sanghoon always idolised him. When your brother’s son is your own child’s best friend, there’s little you can do to separate them without causing uproar.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Taeyong. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but I’ll make sure my son understands the consequences of trying to continue this silly feud.”

He should have known. Whether it was out of fear or ego, love or resentment, Jaehwa had always proven himself to be an adept liar.

“Thank you,” Taeyong said, bowing again. “I appreciate that. I hope you have a peaceful day, and that your son’s injuries heal well.”

-

Ten had come into Taeyong’s life at what was undoubtedly his lowest point. Dancing until his every limb ached with exhaustion, the threat of tears pressing behind his eyes as he studied his form in the mirror and couldn’t figure out why everything looked so wrong.

And Ten, who was something of a myth at their academy, someone coveted even by his seniors, walked into the practice room, saw Taeyong dancing, and laughed.

Even as Taeyong had crumpled, he knew Ten hadn’t laughed out of malice. It was more surprise, shock, disbelief. How the hell had Taeyong been accepted into the academy on a scholarship? He had no skill. No talent. Even with Jaehwa’s help, he couldn’t get it right.

He was nineteen years old, crying on the floor of the practice room, and even with Ten, unknown and worried above him, all Taeyong could think about was Johnny.

In friendship and romance alike, Johnny had always been his comfort. Whether it was watching a scary movie at twelve years old, Taeyong wedged between Johnny and Doyoung, hiding his face behind his sleeves, or fifteen, about to get his ears pierced, squeezing the life out of Johnny’s hand.

He didn’t have that here. He had Jaehwa, who was doing his best to help Taeyong, but even that didn’t feel right. Taeyong still wasn’t good enough.

“Your form is all wrong,” Ten said gently, crouched next to Taeyong’s pathetic ball of misery. “You have the speed and the rhythm, but you’re not holding yourself well enough to support your body when you spin.”

“I’m doing my best,” Taeyong had said. “Jaehwa tutors me every week and I still can’t get it right.”

Ten had laughed, loud and hard until he’d realised Taeyong was being serious. “Jeon Jaehwa? He’s an ass. I didn’t think he had it in him to tutor anyone.”

Taeyong had lifted his head, uncertain. Jaehwa had talked about Ten, usually with disgust in his voice. “He says the same about you,” Taeyong said thickly. “That you’re only here for yourself.”

Ten laughed again, even louder than the first time. “Everyone is here for themselves,” he’d said, smiling. It wasn’t a cruel smile though; it was almost unbearably kind. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be good to others. It doesn’t mean you can’t make friends and keep them.” Ten stood. “Try again, but this time put your weight on your right foot. When you finish the spin, point your toes to the right and it’ll help you stop, but also give you a wider base to balance on.”

His tone hadn’t welcomed argument, so Taeyong had wiped his eyes and done as Ten said.

Almost immediately, he could turn without stumbling.

He’d smiled at Ten, only to find the other boy frowning. It wasn’t disappointment in his eyes, but something closer to pity. Pity mixed with anger. “What’s your name?”

“Lee Taeyong.”

Ten had nodded, staring at Taeyong in the mirror. “You corrected yourself very easily.”

“Thank you,” Taeyong had said, unsure why Ten was frowning.

“I think Jaehwa is teaching you the wrong things deliberately,” Ten said, still staring into the mirror. “An average dancer doesn’t learn that quickly, Lee Taeyong. I think he’s holding you back to calm his own fears of inferiority.”

Ten had come into Taeyong’s life at what was undoubtedly his lowest point. His heart was broken, his dancing technique was awful, and he just found out that the person he thought was his friend was using him to quell his own fears.

“It’s okay,” Ten had said, somewhat awkward. He’d taken Taeyong to a late-night diner and bought them both waffles. “To be upset. Your feelings are valid, or whatever.”

Taeyong had stared down at his food, still reeling too quickly to comprehend anything. All he really knew was that for the first time in months, he wanted to talk to Doyoung. To ask for advice. For help. “Thanks,” he’d said to Ten, unsure what else to say.

Ten had shrugged. “It sucks, but bad friendships can hurt just as much as bad relationships. Jaehwa is an asshole, but he’s good at pretending he isn’t. That’s not your fault, and it isn’t your fault you trusted him. He took advantage of your openness, and that’s all on him.” He stabbed his waffle and popped a chunk into his mouth, staring at Taeyong. Ten was gorgeous, and what looked cold from a distance was much warmer up close. He sparkled, but his glitter wasn’t sharp enough to cut. “Don’t worry, Taeyong. I’ll make sure you get back on track. Stick with me and you’ll be in the top five before you realise.”

Taeyong didn’t doubt Ten’s sincerity, but the confrontation with Jaehwa made him nervous. “What about-“

Ten waved him off. “I’ll be there when you talk to him. People like Jaehwa like to play the victim, so the best thing you can do is make things brief and then move on, away from him.” Ten pushed Taeyong’s drink closer. “Come on, you need to hydrate yourself.”

“Why are you doing this?” Taeyong had asked, somewhat hopeless.

Ten grinned, bright and happy. “I’m your new car, honey. We got rid of the junk, and now your shiny new vehicle is gonna make you go all the places you deserve.” He ate another forkful of waffle, still grinning. “That’s what real friends do, right? I’ll make sure you get back on your feet. If I ever need it, I’m sure you’ll do the same for me.”

Taeyong didn’t know how to dance yet, but he knew he could trust Ten. He knew that things wouldn’t be perfect, but with Ten, tiny and loud and beguiling, things would get better.

-

Kun looked as though he was going to faint when Taeyong arrived at the theatre with the kids bruised and smiling.

“Did something happen?” he asked, eyes bugging out of his head. He looked so cute, a beautiful bouquet of tulips in his hands for Ten after the performance.

Donghyuck shrugged. “We won, and that’s what matters.”

Kun blinked rapidly. “Alright then.” He gestured inside. “We’re sat on the back two rows. It’s only fair that the parents get the closer seats since its their kids that will be performing. Why don’t you get settled? Mark is already in there somewhere.”

Taeyong gently pushed the boys forward, watching them go. He turned to Kun. “How’s Ten?”

Kun smiled. “Already crying. He’s so proud of the kids that I’m kind of worried he’s going to steal them.”

Taeyong laughed. He’d helped Ten set up the scenery and checked on all the costumes, but once the kids had started to arrive he’d slipped out to look after his own kids and make sure they had dinner. Considering how emotional Ten had been when Taeyong had left, it was no great surprise he’d moved to tears. “When are the others arriving?”

Kun pointed over Taeyong’s shoulder. “Yuta’s car just pulled up, and I’m pretty sure he’s got Johnny, Jae, and Doyoung in there too.”

Taeyong turned to smile at their approach, Yuta waving excitedly. “The gang’s all here.”

Kun sighed, fond. “I can’t wait until this is over. Ten is the only person I love enough to sit and watch two hours of six-year-olds doing ballet.”

“That’s a lie,” Doyoung said, immediately wrapping himself around Taeyong. “You’d do it for any of us, minus the flowers.”

Kun rolled his eyes, but the fondness never left his expression. “Maybe,” he said. “Let’s go in. It will make Ten feel better if he looks out and sees us already sat down.”

Johnny clapped Kun’s shoulder, grinning. “You’re so loved up that it kind of hurts to look at,” he said.

Kun scoffed. “You’re no better."

Johnny’s face coloured red, and he looked down.

Taeyong let himself get dragged into the theatre by Doyoung, but he kept staring at Johnny’s embarrassed blush. When Johnny looked up, his eyes went straight to Taeyong and his blush deepened.

“Hey,” Doyoung said loudly, distracting Taeyong as they walked. “How many days do you have left before you have to leave, Taeyong?”

Taeyong frowned. “We go home the day after tomorrow. You know that.”

Doyoung hummed, a smile trying to escape his serene expression. “I hope someone finds their balls before you leave,” he said, even louder. “It would be a shame to waste such a perfect opportunity.”

“For what?” Taeyong asked, confused. “Do you want to do something tomorrow? I don’t get it.”

“No,” Doyoung said. “We’re all busy tomorrow. Most of us, anyway.”

“Oh,” Taeyong said, lost. “Okay.”

Doyoung kissed his cheek, smiling. “You’re an idiot,” he whispered. “But that’s okay. Let’s go find our seats.”

-

The performance went as well as it could have. The six-year-olds were certainly better at Swan Lake than Taeyong had ever been, despite the occasional stumble, the odd sniffle here and there. It wasn’t the most riveting thing Taeyong had ever seen, but he cheered and applauded just as hard as everyone else did, because the kids needed that. Ten needed it too. When they brought him out to bow with the children, he was as red and tearful as the parents watching their children.

Kun looked like he was seconds from bawling too, but he managed to hold it together until after the kids had gone home and the group was free to find Ten backstage.

The kids left early, Mark, Jeno, and Jaemin in tow, apparently content to squeeze and extra three teenagers into the rooms for a sleepover. Taeyong passed over the keys, too happy to give them another anxious rundown of necessities such as checking the fuse box and making sure they turned the oven off when they’d baked their frozen snacks.

Mark passed over a dense parcel when he walked past Taeyong, expression sheepish. “Hi,” he said. “Dad un-grounded me when he remembered that I’d be twenty soon, haha. He said to say hi to you, and Mom baked you this whole-wheat bread.”

“Thank you,” Taeyong said, half touched, half puzzled. “Did you have this on your knee for the whole performance?”

“Yeah,” Mark said, pink. “Hyuck wouldn’t stop laughing.”

Taeyong looked over to where Donghyuck was making kissy faces at Jaemin, who looked like he was seconds away from headbutting Donghyuck for the effort. “Yeah,” Taeyong said. “He’s a giggly kid.”

“Can I visit?” Mark asked suddenly. “When you go back to the city?” He looked down. “I’ve missed you. And Donghyuck… I like him too.”

Taeyong pulled Mark into a hug, breathing in his puppy scent. “Of course you can visit,” he said. “Whenever you like, for as long as you like. You’re always welcome at our home, Mark.”

Mark hugged back, tentative. “Thank you,” he said, soft. “I think Ten wants to talk to you now though.”

Taeyong pulled back and immediately had Ten in his arms, the neatly wrapped bread falling to the floor.

“Are you proud of me?” Ten asked, squeezing the life out of Taeyong.

Taeyong squeezed even tighter, burying his face in Ten’s hair. “I’m so proud of you I can barely contain it,” he said. “You’ve done so well, Tennie. You look so happy.”

Ten pulled back slightly, eyes still watery, but his smile as blinding as it always was. “I am happy,” he said, voice thick. “But now it’s your turn.”

-

The following morning, Taeyong woke up to find the boys already downstairs, watching Howl’s Moving Castle in a giant puppy pile on the floor. Discarded bowls of cereal lay nearby, and unfortunately for Taeyong’s sanity, they’d finally found his coffee stash.

Renjun looked up from Jeno’s lap. “Hey,” he said. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Taeyong said. “Are you guys all fed?”

Renjun nodded. He nudged his head towards Donghyuck, who was asleep on Mark’s shoulder. “We’re tired though. We didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Taeyong smiled. He knew that because he didn’t either. He’d heard them laughing well into the early morning, but the sound was too precious for him to ask them to quieten down. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

“No thanks,” Renjun said. He kicked Chenle, one of the few boys awake. “You want anything?”

“No thank you,” Chenle mumbled, head drooping. “Taeyong, do we have to do anything today?”

If they weren’t so bruised, so soft in the morning light, so happy pressed against one another, maybe Taeyong would have suggested they go outside to wake themselves up. As it was, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb them.

“No, honey, you guys just relax today,” he said. “I’m going to go for a walk, alright? Ring me if you need anything.”

Chenle mumbled his thanks, and Renjun blew him a kiss. Taeyong picked up a soft grey cardigan and waved them goodbye, closing the door as quietly as he could.

It made him happy. Dreamy, in a way. The joy of knowing his kids were happy was indescribable. The air was warm, the skies clear, and Taeyong’s kids were happy.

When Johnny’s truck pulled up beside Taeyong as he wandered, he was still too dreamy to be startled. “Hi,” he said when Johnny rolled down the window. “Are you done on the farm?”

“I am,” Johnny said. “Are you busy?”

“Not really,” Taeyong said, unsure of Johnny’s oddly intense eyes. “Are you?”

“I am now,” Johnny replied. “We’re going for a picnic.”

Taeyong blinked. “We are?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Taeyong said. His gut told him it was a bad idea, that he was setting himself up for more hurt. Unfortunately for Taeyong’s wellbeing, he trusted Johnny far more than he trusted his own instinct. “Okay.”

Johnny grinned. “Climb in, baby.”

-

Fields passed as one green blur, lulling Taeyong into a gentle calm, his forehead against the window, eyelids drooping as Johnny hummed along to the radio.

It was almost jolting to realise that the reason behind his relaxation was the absence of anxiety.

When he turned to Johnny, Taeyong’s stomach didn’t twist.

Johnny glanced at Taeyong; eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. “You good?”

“I think so,” Taeyong said. “Just… I don’t know.”

Johnny moved one hand from the wheel and squeezed Taeyong’s thigh. The way his fingers curled around the width made something in the back of Taeyong’s throat ache. “You don’t have to know, as long as you’re not feeling bad.”

“I’m not,” Taeyong said, staring down at Johnny’s hand. “I promise.”

Johnny squeezed again. “Good. Only positive vibes are allowed in this eco-friendly vehicle. You have to leave depression for the fossil fuel cars.”

Taeyong giggled. When he looked back out of the window, he noticed that fields were becoming hills. Ever so slowly, hills were becoming trees. Forest. “Johnny, where are we going?”

Johnny smiled. “To have a picnic.”

“I know that, but where?”

“Somewhere we can see the leaves.”

Taeyong frowned, confused. “Leaves?”

“Yeah. You’ll know what I mean when we get there.”

Reassured, Taeyong leant back against the window. When he started drifting again, he was just awake enough to notice Johnny turning the volume of the radio down. He was just asleep enough to reach for Johnny’s hand and link their fingers together without worrying about the consequences. He was just awake enough to smile when Johnny lifted their joined hands and kissed Taeyong’s knuckles.

-

He was shaken awake once the truck was parked. Taeyong blinked his eyes open to see trees through the window. Trees and more trees. Only trees.

He rubbed his eyes, knocking his glasses. “The hell?” he slurred. “How far have you driven?”

Johnny laughed. “Not that far, baby. I just know which direction to go.” He pocketed his keys and opened his door. “Come on. You can carry the blanket and I’ll carry the food.”

Taeyong did as he was told, stepping out into the soft earth. Woodland always had such a cushioned texture, yielding like carpet. It was a long time since Taeyong’s sneakers had sank into the earth like they did.

Johnny passed over a rolled blanket from the back seat before lugging a picnic basket into his arms. “Let’s get this party started!” he exclaimed, slamming the door closed with his ass. “It’s not far from here. You see the fox trail in the dirt? Follow it.”

They’d done that a lot as kids. Finding the smallest animal trail then following it for hours, lost but unafraid. Yuta, with his instinct for home, always got them back safe.

Yuta, who wasn’t here.

Taeyong stepped over a fallen tree and looked back to Johnny. “Are you sure you know where we’re going?”

Johnny pouted. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, it’s just…” Taeyong gestured around. “There aren’t many signposts.”

“Nature is one big signpost, Taeyong. Each tree is different.”

Taeyong couldn’t help but snort. “Okay, Rambo.”

Johnny kicked the back of Taeyong’s knee and laughed as he crumpled. “City boy lost his country legs?”

Taeyong picked himself up, nose in the air. “I’ve lost nothing, thank you.”

“Yeah? So if I put you in a field and told you to find your way to the farm you could do it?”

Taeyong glared. “If I put you in the nearest subway station and told you to find my house, could you do it?”

“I’ve never been to your house,” Johnny said. “That’s an unfair disadvantage.”

“You just don’t like that I’m right.”

“You just don’t like that _I’m_ right. You’re a pirate that’s lost himself at sea.”

Oddly enough, it seemed to fit. Taeyong felt like he was drowning somewhere familiar. A sea of trees, or an ocean of leaves. Why was he leading them to their destination? All he could do was fallow the tracks and hope for the best, but Johnny didn’t seem to care.

“We’re going to get lost,” Taeyong said, a slight panic starting to rise.

Johnny hushed him, soft and calming. “We’re not going to get lost, Taeyong. We’re almost there now, just a little further. Besides, even if we did get lost, that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“It wouldn’t?”

“No. We know this land, even if you don’t remember it right now. We’d find our way back.”

Taeyong smiled, ducking his head despite knowing Johnny couldn’t see his expression. _We._ He felt that word in his fingertips. It could mean everything or nothing, but Taeyong would be happy either way. We with Johnny was enough however it was intended.

He was still thinking when Johnny stroked a hand down the back his neck. “We’re here. Just go between those two elms.”

Taeyong stumbled a little, but the hand on the back of his neck was warm and strong. He followed the instruction, only stopping when he saw where it was that Johnny had brought them.

Not a clearing exactly, but a sparsity in trees that provided some space, a little more air. The ground was green, covered in soft moss and grass, but the sky was orange.

Taeyong looked up, wonderous. “It’s so pretty,” he said. “Johnny, it’s so beautiful.”

Johnny grinned. He looked pleased with himself, but there was something familiar and aching in his gaze that seemed to counteract his smugness. Something like resignation, like hopelessness and hurt. “I thought you’d like it. Autumn always seems to hit here first.”

Taeyong kept quiet as they set the blanket out and spread out the food. Johnny had packed cooked meats, sticky rice, and an entire tupperware full of Taeyong’s favourite honey roasted sweet potato.

“Thank you,” Taeyong said, looking at his crossed legs while Johnny dished the food onto paper plates. “This was very sweet of you.”

Johnny laughed. “I guess. I just wanted to do something fun with my day, and what better way to enjoy it than to be with you?”

Taeyong could feel the embarrassed blush climbing its way up his neck, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t pleased. “How’re you spending so much time away from the farm?”

Johnny shoved a piece of pork into his mouth, chewing slowly before swallowing. He had a sip of water before replying. “When I was younger, I didn’t really get the magnitude of farming, you know? It’s not a one-man operation, it takes so many people to work a farm. I own the land, but I’m not necessarily the one doing all of the work. I have Jaehyun, who is officially my right hand, and he employs farm hands seasonally to help with the work. If I need a day away from the farm, he makes sure I have that. If he needs a day away, I make sure he has that too.” He gestured to Taeyong’s plate. “Keep eating, baby.”

Taeyong popped a piece of sweet potato into his mouth obediently. “So Jaehyun is like a business partner?”

Johnny shrugged. “Kind of? I don’t really know how to explain it. Things aren’t as official as they probably should be for the legality of it, but I guess when it comes down to it, Jaehyun really is a partner more than an employee. I’d trust him with the farm if I ever had to go away.”

Taeyong nodded slowly. “Did he grow up on a farm too?”

Johnny laughed, the sound as beautiful as his joy. “Not even close. He’s a rich kid, the son of a lawyer and a surgeon. Jaehyun grew up on fine dining and silk sheets.”

It was beyond Taeyong, how someone could come from the echelons of society and then content themselves in the mud with animals. Not that he hated the farm, or the lifestyle, but if he hadn’t grown up surrounded by it all, he doubted he would have viewed it the same. Living from the land was harder than it appeared, and small communities often struggled together through the tougher periods. It was warm, but cloying. A damp blanket.

Taeyong looked around at the auburn trees. Maybe Jaehyun had come for this, then. The space. The quiet beauty of it all. The anonymity of a small community that didn’t know the names of your parents.

The forest, for all of its colour and warmth, felt familiar in a strange way. There were memories hanging from the trees like the dying leaves, different colours, different tones, falling at different speeds.

Taeyong frowned. “This kind of looks familiar, but I don’t know why. Have we been here before?”

Johnny put his plate down, apparently done with his food. He passed Taeyong the water, eyebrows raised. “We have,” he said. “You don’t remember?”

Taeyong looked around after taking a sip, but other than the vague sense of something, he couldn’t think of specifics. Almost every forest appeared the same. “No,” he said, settling back. “I don’t remember at all.”

“Picture the scene,” Johnny said, a dramatic lilt to his voice. “Kun’s fourteenth birthday, the depth of a considerably mild winter, dry ground, bare trees, only a slight chill to the wind. Yuta, having acquired a bottle of cider from his cousin’s bedroom, invites us out to camp. He hides the cider at the bottom of his bag and convinces his parents to drive us out to the forest so that we can celebrate our friend’s birthday in privacy, with the proper insulation provided, of course. Little do they know; we’re drinking cider and not obeying basic fire safety guidelines only hours later.”

Memories fell faster, clearer. More like raindrops than leaves.

Yuta spitting cider at the fire to see if it would flame, Doyoung’s dismay, an open bottle of water at hand the entire time. Kun rolling his eyes, trying to roast marshmallows, an eschewed party hat atop his head.

Johnny pushing Taeyong against a tree, out of sight, his teeth sharp against Taeyong’s neck, laughter warm as he hushed Taeyong’s moans.

He looked at Johnny, something unidentifiable swirling in his heart. Betrayal, maybe. Hope. “Johnny, did you really bring us to the place that we had our first kiss?”

Johnny blinked. “What? No.”

“It was here,” Taeyong said, a little impatient now. If Johnny was trying to do something, to make Taeyong feel some kind of way, then the least he could do was be honest about it. “I remember it now. We went to get firewood and we hid away from the clearing, and you kissed me.”

“That wasn’t this forest, Taeyong. That was when we all went camping in the woods by the lake our dads used to fish at. It was a couple of months after Kun’s birthday.”

“No, it was here,” Taeyong insisted. “I remember it.”

“So do I,” Johnny said, frowning now. “Because I told Yuta I’d kissed you the next day and he pushed me in the lake. Don’t you remember? He pushed you in straight after.”

Taeyong remembered being pushed in the lake, but the details surrounding it were blurry. The only sharp memory was the feeling of icy water entering his lungs, Johnny’s firm grip on his shoulders as he pulled Taeyong back to the surface, laughing but just as soaked.

Biting his lip, Taeyong looked around at the trees. Maybe Johnny was right. Maybe every forest really did appear the same. Maybe he was a pirate lost at a sea he used to know. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” Johnny said. “I wouldn’t have tried to manipulate your memory like that. I just wanted to show you the trees.” He raised both hands, smiling. Sweet but awkward, exactly the way he used to be. “I swear to you, Lee Taeyong, that we have never kissed here.”

And maybe the way he phrased it, that distinct wording that made Taeyong pause and consider, really consider, that it had been almost eight years since he’d last kissed Johnny. It had been eleven years since their first kiss, Taeyong’s first ever kiss, and none of the kisses that followed had been in this forest.

Taeyong leant over, acting too quickly to scare himself back into submission, and pressed his chapped lips against Johnny’s plush, velvety mouth. He pulled back just as quickly, heart hammering a dizzying rhythm in his chest. “We have now,” he said, breathless.

Johnny stared at him, mouth agape. “Dude,” he said. “Taeyong. Did you just kiss me?”

_Dude._

“Dude?” Taeyong repeated. He brought his hands to his face, dismayed. “Dude? Did I read all of this wrong?”

 _“No!”_ Johnny shouted, throwing his hands to his own face. His eyes were so wide they looked almost comical. “Fuck! Taeyong, you kissed me!” He blinked rapidly. “Was it an accident?”

Taeyong felt his heart crumple. “It wasn’t an accident,” he said. “But if it wasn’t what you wanted then I’m sorry. I just…” he trailed off, looking away. He could only hope the sheen of tears in his eyes wasn’t evident. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” He shook his head and stood. “I’m going to ring the boys and check they’re okay. Give me a minute.”

“No!” Johnny’s hand shot out and grabbed Taeyong’s wrist before he could walk away. With one hard tug, Taeyong was back on the blanket, sprawled ungracefully beside Johnny. Johnny, who looked angrier than he ever had. “Taeyong, you need to stop running away from me.”

Taeyong swallowed, the sudden guilt heavy. God, Johnny was right. They were kids before, young and stupid, but what was Taeyong’s excuse this time? Even if he didn’t say it, he knew how Johnny felt. He knew they felt the same. He couldn’t be childish, and he couldn’t be selfish. Not again. If for no other reason than he had an example to set for his own kids. He had to be someone he knew they could be proud of, and he had to be someone courageous, someone worth Johnny’s kindness, his patience, his love.

“I don’t know what to say,” Taeyong said, honest. Hopeless. “Johnny, I didn’t think I would be, but I’m still in love with you.” He felt himself begin to tear up again. “Seven years later, and I’m still in love with you. I don’t know what to do about it.”

After a still second of silence, Johnny pulled him into a crushing hug. “Thank you,” he said, trembling. “For trusting me enough to tell me after everything that happened last time. Thank you.”

Taeyong wound his arms over Johnny’s shoulders and held him close. Against his neck, where Johnny’s face was pressed, Taeyong felt the hot drip of tears. He stroked a hand through Johnny’s hair, fear abating for concern. “Love,” he said, “Johnny, why are you crying?”

“All this time I thought I’d ruined it,” Johnny sobbed. “I didn’t think you’d come back. I didn’t think I’d get to say sorry, that I knew it was my fault you left. I never thought I’d get the chance to finally say it back.”

Taeyong pressed his lips together, trying not to break down too. One sobbing mess at a time. “You still haven’t said it,” he told Johnny, gently lifting his head to wipe away the tears with the edge of his cardigan sleeve.

Johnny wasn’t a pretty crier. It made Taeyong happy to know that unlike many other things, that had never changed. “Taeyong,” Johnny said, sniffing. “I’m still in love with you too.”

The noise that escaped Taeyong’s throat was pathetic, but he was past shame. Besides, Johnny had never made him feel anything less than beautiful. What did one squeaky sob matter in the long term? Johnny loved him. Johnny _loved_ him.

After all the time apart, their love hadn’t faded. They were different people, but they still felt the same. It was humbling.

Taeyong didn’t believe in soulmates, but he believed in Johnny. He always had, and he always would. Like his love, that was something else that would never fade.

When he kissed Johnny for the second time under the beautiful autumn trees, Johnny cradled Taeyong’s face and kissed him back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank u so much for sticking with this story for so long!! I'm sending love to u all xo

Responsibility was a blessing and a curse, just like the rest of adulthood. There were aspects you treasured – independence, freedom – and at the same time, you were left painfully aware that you were all the more vulnerable for them. There was no soft place to land if you made a mistake, unless you stuffed the mattress yourself. If you had someone in your care, someone to protect, then you had more mattresses to fill. As life continued onwards, it became more about stuffing other people's mattresses. Your own became flat. In harder times, when there was little stuffing to use, you’d take some from your own to share around. It became less about softening your own landing and more about ensuring that the people you cared about had the safest landing. You were responsible, not just for yourself, but for your own life, the impact you had, and the people that needed your care and your mattress stuffing.

Johnny drove back to town as the sun was setting.

It was quiet in his truck; he wasn’t interested in the radio anymore. When he wasn’t changing gears, his hand was linked with Taeyong’s, tight and warm.

“You won’t come back to live here, will you,” he said, not the question it should have been. He already knew the answer.

“No,” Taeyong said. “I won’t. I can’t.”

Johnny nodded. His peaceful expression didn’t change, but more likely than not he’d already resigned himself to the fact that he’d have to deal with Taeyong leaving again. More likely than not, he’d already grieved.

It was hard. Hard for them both.

“Does Jisung come home from his school at weekends?”

Taeyong looked out over the fields. The sun was still hovering in the distance, but the stars were staring to shine, like they couldn’t help themselves, too eager to stay hidden for just a little longer. “Not every weekend,” he said. “Maybe once a month, maybe more if he feels homesick or gets ill. He likes it there with Chenle and their other friends, and it would be wrong of me to make him come home when he’s building a life for himself out in the big, wide world.”

“But you miss him?”

Taeyong’s throat tightened. “They’re my kids. I miss them all the time, even when they’re asleep in their beds and I’m cleaning up their messy shoes. There’s never a day I don’t miss them, but that’s part of the job.”

Johnny nodded, flicking his indicator on before taking a left turn. “Every child deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a child. You do.”

Taeyong blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that they deserve the family you’ve given them, and you deserve it too.”

Taeyong looked back to Johnny, bright even in the diminishing light. “They like you, you know. Already, they like you almost as much as they like me. I’d be offended if I weren’t so happy.”

Johnny smiled. “I always knew we’d have kids, Taeyong. I didn’t think you’d get a head start on the family, but I’m not upset.”

“You’re not?”

“How could I be upset? You built the life you’ve always deserved. You built the life that those boys deserve.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“When will you build the life that you deserve?”

“I’m working on it,” Johnny said. “I have the friends; I have the family. I’m just working on the finer details.”

Taeyong hummed. “Like what?”

“Like persuading you to let me visit every other weekend so that we can start our life together.”

Taeyong squeezed Johnny’s hand and watched the stars blink. “Consider me persuaded.”

-

If Taeyong had only his own mattress to stuff, he would have sold his townhouse and moved back in with Johnny as soon as humanly possible. He would have thrown caution to the wind, certain that the mattress was almost insignificant when he had Johnny’s arms to land in.

Responsibility didn’t allow for that, though.

Taeyong had already built a home for his kids, and they’d been moved around because of the whims of others far too much for their young years. Taeyong wasn’t about to do that again, not for Johnny or anyone else. No matter how Taeyong felt, he’d made a vow when he’d first met with Donghyuck, and that was that if he adopted or fostered, it would be his duty and his honour to give the kids the stability they deserved.

That meant waiting a couple of years until all three were ready to start stuffing their own mattresses. It meant having them understand that whether Taeyong was in love or not, they would remain his priority. It meant that they knew if they were suffering at college or work or wherever it was they ended up, they’d still have their home and Taeyong to come back to. For his boys, Taeyong was more than happy to share his mattress stuffing.

He could section a little out for Johnny too though, knowing that Johnny would do the same. They were adults now, both responsible. They could share their mattress stuffing with each other, neither getting too flat.

The thought was oddly exhilarating. Maybe that’s what adulthood was, more than anything else. Getting excited about the mundane happiness’s that came with life – and knowing you could share them with someone.

“I travel,” Taeyong said, watching the streets pass. He was almost back with his boys, but before then his anxiety urged him to make things clearer with Johnny. More straightforward, more honest. There was no room for half truths or secrets this time around. “Sometimes its four months a year, sometimes it’s longer. Now that the boys are all in school away from home, it might be closer to six months. It’s a good wage, and I enjoy my work. I have at least a couple more years left in me until I want to find something more grounded.”

Johnny smiled. “Your phone has a camera, right? We can facetime. If you have a show nearby, I’ll book a hotel and take you out for dinner when you’re done.”

“My anxiety is bad,” Taeyong said. “Sometimes it’s so bad that I can barely function. Sometimes it makes me sick.”

“Are you speaking to a specialist?”

Taeyong nodded.

“That’s great, baby. You deserve the best quality of life, and a doctor can help you with that.”

He was running out of excuses for Johnny to make a graceful exit. “I don’t know how to milk a cow.”

Johnny laughed. “Is that something you desperately need to know in the city? I could give you lessons over Zoom.”

“I meant for here. If, you know, when things settle down and the boys aren’t so dependant on me, I don’t know how much use I would be if I came back and-“

“Taeyong, I don’t love you because you’re useful.”

That shut him up.

Johnny glanced over, his gaze warm. “The bottom line is, I’d be happy in a tiny city apartment with no windows if you were there too. I know what it feels like to live here without you in my life, and it turns out that no amount of sheep can make me happy in the way that you do. I know things won’t be easy – we have a lot of learning to do. A lot of compromising, too. We have hugely different lifestyles, and we both have duties that need to come first, which I understand is especially important for you with the kids. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It doesn’t mean you aren’t worth the effort of an attempt. It doesn’t mean that I’m not willing to try and make it work.”

Taeyong picked at the skin of his fingers, not so much worried but lightly concerned. There was too much love in his chest for the painful kind of fear to penetrate the thick fog. “And the people here? It didn’t work out the first time for a reason, Johnny. I’m not trying to doubt you, I just don’t want to get invested in something only for it to turn out the same way.”

“I was a stupid kid, Taeyong,” Johnny said quietly. “More than anything, I was scared of what people thought of me. It turns out that after Jaehyun fell over at a farmer’s market and grabbed onto my jeans, only to pull them down in front of my neighbours, fear doesn’t really factor. I could never be more humiliated, especially not by loving you. I think it’s one of my proudest achievements, actually.” His small smile widened. “I think knowing you and loving you has helped me grow into someone my mother is proud of. Even better, I’m starting to be proud of myself.”

“Pull over,” Taeyong said, throat tight.

Johnny glanced over, concerned. “We’re only a couple of streets away from the house, if you wait a minute I can-“

“Pull over, Johnny.”

Johnny pulled over, and before he could take his hands from the wheel, Taeyong was in his lap, hands in his hair, kissing him with the force he’d wanted to at fourteen, too shy, at sixteen, too insecure, at eighteen, too heartbroken.

Johnny squeaked, the noise too funny for the situation, making Taeyong giggle against his lips.

He stopped giggling when Johnny’s big hands threaded into his hair, his tongue hot and wet against the seam of Taeyong’s lips, then grazing his teeth, then against his own tongue, gentle but insistent in the way he always seemed to be, undeniable. Perfect.

Then the thought of Johnny in the middle of a farmer’s market with his jeans around his ankles and Jaehyun on the floor came to mind, unbidden, and Taeyong laughed directly into Johnny’s mouth.

He pulled back slightly, still laughing, tears blurring the edge of his vision. “Jaehyun pulled your pants down at a farmer’s market and you expect me to just brush over that?”

Johnny started laughing too, despite the blush climbing up his neck. His beautiful whisker dimples flashed, and through his laugher Taeyong couldn’t help but kiss them all. He felt so full of adoration that he could float away into the clouds.

“He’s way clumsier than he looks,” Johnny said, hands unthreading from Taeyong’s hair to hold him at the waist, secure. “Incredibly capable, but if he isn’t paying attention to his feet he’ll take out a room in one foul swoop.”

It was a wonderful picture. It made Taeyong think that maybe he should section off some stuffing for Jaehyun too if, he was falling so frequently. It sounded like he needed somewhere especially soft to land, though from the gentleness of Johnny’s fondness, it looked like it was already being provided.

Johnny was a nice boy that had grown into a great man. He was a great friend, and the knowledge that Taeyong would be finding out what kind of boyfriend he turned out to be cut away the remaining threads that tethered him to the ground. He kissed Johnny again and floated away.

-

It wasn’t until Taeyong was locking up the house the following morning that any real sadness hit. It had been such a long week that it felt almost jarring to know that he’d be going back to his actual home in the city, back to the cramped room at the end of the hall, back to knocking knees with the boys at the breakfast table.

Taeyong hid the keys under a plant pot in the garden as the homeowner had instructed, then climbed into the driver’s seat of his car, the boys already strapped in.

Donghyuck was quiet in the front, the other three boys in various stages of napping in the back as Taeyong pulled away from the house and out of the town. Renjun was asleep with his head on Jisung’s shoulder, and on his other side, Chenle was texting his parents, presumably about their arrival time.

It was an underwhelming exit, considering the fear with which Taeyong had first driven into town. There was no parade, no pitchforks. Just the quiet knowledge that either in weeks or months, he’d be coming back. And when he did, there’d be a family full of friends waiting for him and the boys.

“Are we coming back for the winter holidays?”

Taeyong glanced over at Donghyuck. “I’m not sure, yet. It depends on if you want to.”

“Why?”

“Because you boys come first, Hyuck. Always.”

Donghyuck leant his head against the window. “Can we talk it over with Renjun and Jisung when we get home?”

“Of course, honey.”

“Are you gonna start dating Johnny now? We saw you kissing him outside of the house last night.”

Taeyong felt his cheeks warm. His hands tightened on the wheel. “I think so. We’re going to take things slow and see what happens.”

Donghyuck nodded. “I kissed Mark last night, too.”

Taeyong blinked. “You did?”

Donghyuck nodded. “I thought he was going to swallow his tongue.”

Only when it mattered to him did Donghyuck keep a lid on his emotions. As someone emotive at the least appropriate times, it would have helped Taeyong understand his footing if Donghyuck had showed _something_ about his feelings towards Mark. Anything. But no. Only now they’d kissed did he decide to keep his feelings to himself. “So… how are you?”

Donghyuck frowned. “Kind of hungry. Can we stop somewhere for lunch before we go home?”

“Don’t do this to me,” Taeyong said, close to begging. “Come on, don’t leave me in the dark.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What’s going on with you and Mark?”

Donghyuck smirked. “So this is what it feels like, huh?”

“What?”

“Having the nosy parent that wants to know about your love life?”

“I’m concerned for your emotions!”

“They’re having a date over facetime tomorrow night,” Jisung said from behind Taeyong.

Taeyong felt his heart melt. He looked over to Donghyuck, who was slowly turning a red that belied anger as much as embarrassment. “You’ve got a date, Hyuckie?”

Donghyuck glowered at Jisung. “I wasn’t finished taunting him yet!”

“I was bored of it,” Jisung said. “Just like I was bored of having to see you make eyes at Mark for an entire week. At least now you can do it in privacy.”

“Maybe if you’d kept your nose in your own business instead of sticking it into mine-“

“I did keep to my own business! I still got punched by a stranger!”

With a car full of adolescent boys, peace never lasted longer than a couple of minutes. “Let Renjun rest,” Taeyong said, already exhausted. Only another two hours of driving to go. “Don’t start bickering now.”

“Ah, Taeyong?” Chenle asked.

“Yes, honey?”

“My parents asked if you’d like to stay for lunch with us when you drop me off.”

“They’re rich,” Donghyuck whispered, immediately changing tone. “Say yes.”

“That would be lovely, thank you, Chenle,” Taeyong said. “Have you warned them about the… bruising?”

“Yeah, they’re prepared,” Chenle said, serious. “They don’t think you’re a bad guardian, I promise.”

“I’ll think you’re a bad guardian if you don’t let me eat rich people’s food,” Donghyuck said.

“We’re going!”

“You shouldn’t reward bad behaviour,” Jisung said.

Taeyong rubbed his temple, one hand on the wheel. He checked the clock on the dashboard and held back his sigh. Only an hour and fifty minutes of driving left to go.

-

After lunch with Chenle’s parents and a sweet goodbye, Taeyong immediately lost sight of his boys once they got home. Into their rooms they went, leaving Taeyong to check the post and filter through the spam for the bills.

It was quiet. Quieter than he was used to as the family acclimated back into their space.

He boiled the kettle and made the boys some drinks, taking them up on a tray in exchange for brief hugs and murmured thanks.

Then he was alone again.

It had only been a week, but when Taeyong looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he saw that his dark roots were beginning to peak through the blonde strands. Things were already returning to the way they had been before.

He returned to his cramped kitchen, refilling the kettle for his own drink, unsure yet what to do. He had to email his studio and start discussing contracts, but that could wait until Monday morning. Until then, he felt unfamiliar in his own house.

Just as the kettle had boiled the front door squeaked open, and Taeyong heard the recognisable sound of Doyoung tripping over Donghyuck’s shoes.

Seconds later he was in the kitchen, shoving past Taeyong to grab a handful of plates. “Hurry up and get the cutlery,” he said as a greeting. “Taeil and Sicheng are bringing in the food now.”

Taeyong just stood. “Huh?”

“We brought food. Thai, to be exact. Ten ordered it for us and had it delivered to my apartment, with directions that I bring it over for us all to eat together. He seemed to be under the illusion that you would be sad when you came home, but too unaware to admit to yourself that you didn’t want to be alone.” Doyoung smiled. “I can’t imagine where he would get that idea, but I played along anyway. Let’s humour him, shall we?”

Taeyong was a couple of seconds behind. “I’m not sad,” he said, not sure if it were the truth.

“Sure,” Doyoung said kindly. “But we still need cutlery. Go get the boys, too. There’s enough food to share.”

Taeil shuffled through, arms full of steaming containers. “Sicheng is getting the boys, don’t worry,” he said. “Now if someone could take some of these before I manage to drop everything down my shirt as I always do, that would be great.”

Taeyong jolted into action, taking half of the load from Taeil to start unboxing. They shared each dish equally among the plates, and almost as soon as the smell of hot food hit the room, the boys were scrambling their way into the tight kitchen like they hadn’t eaten in days.

Taeil watched fondly as Donghyuck stole more rice from his plate. “Good to see you guys.”

Donghyuck blew him a kiss. “You didn’t want this rice anyway, right?”

“Take whatever you want,” Taeil said, far too kind.

Sicheng lifted his plate from the bench, above the boys’ heads. “He’s speaking for himself only,” he said. “Touch my food and you’ll regret it.”

Renjun giggled, reaching up to add another rice cracker to Sicheng’s food. “Here,” he said. “To start the reparations.”

Unsurprisingly, by the time the boys had retreated to their rooms with their food, there was barely any left for the adults. Their plates had been pillaged.

Doyoung sighed. “Never mind.”

But Taeyong wasn’t hungry anyway. He was just happy, so happy and full of love that he was content to watch his friends eat, legs tight under the table as Sicheng caught him up on what he’d missed at the studio, Taeil complaining to Doyoung about the perils of office work.

By the time they’d left it was dark outside, the air beginning to take on the piercing chill that belied incoming winter weather.

Taeyong reboiled the kettle, and when he sat on his old sofa with a hot mug of tea, the silence was no longer jarring. It was comfortable, sleepy, the air heavy with the smell of good food.

When Taeyong’s phone buzzed, he was surprised to see an incoming call from Johnny. Not that their goodbye had been unpleasant or rude, but – it hadn’t even been a day.

He opened the call. “Hello?”

“I’m bored,” Johnny complained. “Taeyong, I’m _bored.”_

His whiny tone made Taeyong smile. “I’m sorry to hear that. What are you doing?”

“Cuddling Baby and staring at a muted documentary about plants.”

“Baby?”

“The barn cat. I don’t think the two of you had a chance to meet, but she’s lovely. You’ll get on great.”

“I knew you had a cat; it just didn’t register for some reason that I hadn’t seen her.”

“She’s a very independent lady. She only really comes into the house when it starts to get cold outside, because she likes the warmth of the open fire.”

Taeyong hummed, picturing Johnny sprawled across his couch in front of an open fire, cat purring in his arms. “That sounds cosy.”

“It’d be better if you were here to cuddle,” Johnny said, sulky. “This documentary is boring.”

“So watch something else,” Taeyong said, laughing.

“Do you have Netflix Party? We could watch something together if you’re free.”

Taeyong felt himself smile. How many times could his heart melt in one day? It was beginning to feel infinite. “What if I picked a documentary about plants to watch?”

“It’s fine if you choose it,” Johnny said. “As long as you tell me I’m a good boyfriend for watching it all.”

Taeyong laughed again, drawing his knees up to his chest. “You’re a good boyfriend anyway.”

“Yeah?” Johnny’s voice depend, soft and smooth. “I like your optimism. I’m looking forward to proving it to be correct.”

“Me too,” Taeyong said. “Is it weird? I miss you already.”

“It isn’t weird, baby. I miss you too. I’ve never stopped missing you.”

Taeyong swallowed. “I never stopped missing you, either.”

“Why don’t we switch to cameras, then?” Johnny asked. “Hang up and I’ll facetime you.”

Taeyong did so, and only seconds later Johnny was calling him back.

When the video loaded, Taeyong’s breath caught. It hurt just as much as he thought it would to see Johnny smiling with a cat on his chest. His eyes were shining, so beautiful and fond that Taeyong wanted to hide, too exposed.

“Hi, baby,” Johnny said. “Wanna Netflix and chill long distance? Just me, you, my cat, and whatever plant documentary you force me to watch.”

Taeyong smiled, hand coming up to cover his mouth. “You’re so stupid, Johnny.”

“I call it selective intelligence,” Johnny said. “But it doesn’t matter either way, right? Because you love me as I am.”

“I do,” Taeyong said, slowly lowering his hand. “I do love you as you are.”

Johnny’s smile widened. “I love you too.”

“I know,” Taeyong said, so fond that his chest hurt. “You pick what we watch, Johnny. I don’t mind.”

He kind of regretted the offer halfway through the awful action movie, but not enough to demand Johnny change it. It was worth the shitty effects for Johnny’s silly messages in the chat bar, the occasional heart emoji and _‘I love you so much’_ message.

It was worth the effort of sitting through a bad film if Johnny kept ringing Taeyong to complain about the film in person, too lazy to type despite the Netflix Party being his suggestion.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Johnny said, the film blissfully close to ending.

“I do know that,” Taeyong said. “You just sent it in the chat bar.”

“I had to make sure that you really knew,” Johnny said, almost serious. “I can’t have you forgetting it.”

“I won’t,” Taeyong said. “I won’t forget, Johnny.”

“Good.”

“I love you too,” Taeyong said. “So don’t forget that either, okay?”

Johnny hummed. “I won’t.” He paused. “But maybe a plant documentary would have been better than this. I’m sorry.”

Taeyong laughed. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. Your commentary has made it fun.”

“That’s good, because I tend to talk most of the time. If you got bored of it this quickly we’d probably be due some problems pretty soon.”

“I’m not bored of it,” Taeyong said. “Your voice is comforting.”

“It is?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Really comforting.”

“Then I’ll make sure to call often,” Johnny said. “If that’ll make you happy.”

“It would,” Taeyong whispered. He closed his eyes and thought of the winter nights ahead, how much more bearable they’d be if he were buried in his bed sheets, Johnny on the phone lulling Taeyong to sleep.

“You’ll be sick of me eventually.”

“I don’t think so,” Taeyong said. “We have a lot of time to make up for.”

Johnny hummed. “That’s true. Do you think you’d be free to visit over winter?”

“I’m going to see how the boys feel, but hopefully we’ll make it.”

“Great,” Johnny said. “No pressure, of course, but you’d all be welcome to stay here. The farm is a fun place in winter, especially with all the ice.”

“I remember,” Taeyong replied, smiling. As kids, they’d scramble up the hills only to slide back down them, uncaring of the cold or the hurt. “We have lots of memories to recreate.”

“We do,” Johnny said. “But I’m even more excited for the new memories. Aren’t you?”

It felt odd to look back now, not with regret, with longing, but just fondness. Just fondness and the knowledge that soon he’d have more memories to look back on. “I am,” Taeyong said. “I’m very excited. Nervous, but excited.”

“You’re nervous?” Johnny asked. “In that case, if my voice brings you comfort, I guess I’ll have to stay on the line.”

Taeyong smiled. “Yeah? How long?”

“As long as it takes, baby. As long as you need.”

"Forever?"

"It would be an honour to spend forever with you, Taeyong. If you'll have me."

There was no hesitation, no nerves at all when Taeyong found his voice and replied, "I will."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading as always!! kudos/comments/bookmarks make me v happy xo


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